


Thursday Night Meetings

by LinksLipsSinkShips



Category: Rhett & Link
Genre: Blackmail, Cageplay, Choking, Divorce, Escort, Extremely Dubious Consent, Fear, Guns, Infidelity, Intimidation, Knifeplay, Lapdance, M/M, Male Prostitution, Murder, Office Sex, Sex Tapes, Spanking, Stalking, Stripper!Link, Strippers & Strip Clubs, Thriller, cocky!link, nervous!rhett
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-06
Updated: 2019-04-11
Packaged: 2019-10-05 15:11:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 12
Words: 34,354
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17327336
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LinksLipsSinkShips/pseuds/LinksLipsSinkShips
Summary: Rhett always has to "work late" Thursday nights. His wife has stopped asking and he's stopped explaining; they both know he's lying. But lately one particular man has his attention, and this week, Rhett's going in for the lap dance he's been dying for. But Link isn't the only one who his eye on Rhett. Rough sex, risky behavior, and a little taste of blackmail are going to push Rhett to his limits until he has to ask one very important question: Who can he trust? Everyone around him has to ask a question, too. Can Rhett be trusted?





	1. Link

**Author's Note:**

> for anonymous

Rhett unbuttoned his suit jacket as he sat down, leaning back in his chair a little in the dimmed club. He’d go home late tonight, a quick text sent to his wife about working late that they both knew was a lie. She stopped asking for the truth a long time ago, and he stopped telling. They’d gotten really bored with each other. Double income, no kids, nothing to really keep them afloat aside from the fact that it was easier to keep pushing ahead as they were instead of trying to divide the house and bills and cars reasonably. They were busy people and divorces took time and effort.

This was his release, his Thursday night time to be himself, to enjoy himself, and to get this specific view. He’d been coming here for almost a year, but in the past few weeks, there had been a new dancer, one that made it even more worth his time. Eventually, he’d talk to him, eventually, he’d buy a lap dance, but the first few weeks he just watched.

No one shook his ass like that dancer there, the one everyone called Link. No one moved like him, wiggled their hips like him, had their body flow to the music the way he did. His moves were almost serpentine, and it left Rhett wanting him closer, to use those hips right next to him. For every movement that left Rhett aching for him on the floor, Link was even better on a pole, hooking his leg around it and whirling around, using his arms to turn himself upside down. He was strong. Lean, sure, but strong. Rhett wanted to get his hands on him, his mouth, but obviously that much wasn’t allowed. He’d take just looking, just watching. That was enough.

In the 15 minutes or so Link was on stage, Rhett would push money at him almost constantly, putting it on the stage, letting Link get close enough that he could tuck it in his clothing (or mostly, his lack thereof -- there weren’t many places to tuck it), waving it at him for Link to pluck from his fingers. That night, Link’s eyes seemed to scan the room for him. It was as if he knew Thursdays were Rhett’s night at the club. Rhett was seated back more than usual, not quite as far up front, and he thought he saw a flash of disappointment on Link’s face. He brushed that off -- he was just a customer, and Link just missed the tips. But then he moved forward, waggling a tip at Link, who was focused on practically knocking the crowd back with a few well-timed thrusts toward them before getting on his hands and knees, crawling across the floor, ass out, back arched downwards. He crawled forward to get Rhett’s tip, giving him a wink. “You ever gotten a lap dance?”

He was bold, and Rhett knew it was a good sales tactic. Link had pegged him as too shy to ask, and in a way, he’d been right. Rhett had booked lap dances before, plenty of them. Link seemed different, intimidating in that weird way that he seemed to know exactly what he was doing, and Rhett wasn’t sure how to handle it. Rhett swallowed heavily, nodding. “Can I get one with you?” He bit his lip, waiting as if the answer would be anything but yes.

“I’ll be over in a few, cutie.” He winked at Rhett again, because a little overkill never hurt anybody, and continued his routine, holding onto the pole for balance as he slid his hands up his body, hips swaying back and forth as he closed his eyes and got into the music.

Link seemed like the kind of guy who stripped because he genuinely enjoyed stripping, not the kind who came out from backstage, half-coked out and doing this because it paid the bills, not the kind who had a few too many years on them but wouldn’t give it up yet, not the kind who were talented and beautiful but only half-into it, like someone had coerced them with an “it’s good money,” and they hadn’t questioned it. No, Link seemed obsessed with what he did, seemed to love the feel of his hands on his body and the pulse of the music and the way he could entrance a crowd with a few shakes. He tweaked his nipples with his fingertips, then licked his hand and slid it all the way down his bare stomach, grasping his package firmly through his thong and giving a couple of thrusts.

Rhett couldn’t wait to be close to him. Sure, he couldn’t touch him, but Link could touch, and Rhett could watch, could see him closer, hell, could see if he smelled as good as he looked. Link’s dance was hypnotic, was sultry, was everything you’d expect from a lithe body with perfect rhythm. The way his hips moved, the way his body flowed with the music, it was almost disturbingly beautiful -- the kind of perfection that would make you want to cry. He seemed inhuman to Rhett, unreachable, too perfect and beautiful. Link curtsied -- not bowed, but a deep, sexy curtsy that showed his ass off to the right side of the room, threatened to pull his g-string so snug that his precious gems came close to escaping -- and gathered the last couple of tips that hadn’t stuck in his waistline before stalking off the stage.

Waiting patiently wasn’t Rhett’s strong suit. He knew Link was coming for him, but the idea of waiting any longer for him was difficult. He wanted his lap dance  _ now,  _ wanted to see Link  _ now,  _ and waiting felt so unfair. He struggled to watch through the next dance, a dancer who was probably about as good a stripper as Rhett himself would have been, legs too long, an uncoordinated baby giraffe on the stage. Rhett couldn’t dance, and this dancer reminded him a little too much of himself. Perhaps he was being too hard on the dancer, who was likely just fine; Link was simply a tough act to follow.

“Hey, handsome.” Link’s voice was low and gravelly in his ears, his hands grasping Rhett’s shoulders from behind him. “You want a lap dance now?”

Rhett nodded and looked up at him, biting his lip.

“You want it here?”

Rhett didn’t know how to answer, was frozen in place being that close to Link, so he squeaked out a “sure,” something non-committal, something whatever-works-for-you, and Link smiled at him, wicked grin. He’d changed from what he’d worn on stage, now no longer in a g-string but in hot pants that barely covered his best assets, thighs exposed aside from maybe an inch or two of fabric, clinging to the curve of his ass, a mesh top that was more skin than top, to be honest, and high, high heels.

“Perfect, cutie. I think this is just the right spot.” Link played with Rhett’s tie, standing in front of him and putting a hand on the back of the chair he was in. He spread his legs apart a few feet, leaning forward to Rhett and tugging at his tie like he might kiss him, getting whisper-close. “You’re sexy. I see you watching me every Thursday,” Link said, just barely audible over the loud music of the club. He stepped back, turning around and dropping himself in front of Rhett, then popping his ass up as he slid his hands up his legs to stand, his butt right in Rhett’s face.

He knew it was the empty platitudes of a stripper, one that wanted a big tip after a lap dance. Link didn’t notice him any more than he noticed anyone else, and Rhett was certain of it. But it made him feel good, and Link’s proximity made him feel a little flushed. Link hovered over Rhett’s lap, grabbing the chair once in a while, grazing Rhett with his ass and looking over his shoulder at him. When he turned again, straddled Rhett, he met his eyes with intensity. “It’s a shame you aren’t allowed to touch me,” Link said. “You’ve got those nice, strong hands. I bet they’d fit my ass really nicely, don’t you think?” Link was a tease, it was clear. He knew Rhett couldn’t touch and used it to his advantage, making Rhett crave it, want it, ask for it. Rhett wondered if it was some sort of game, like Link had a mental tally of how many guys he could tempt past the limit and get kicked out of the club for touching the models. 

“You ever say anything, handsome?” Rhett realized once Link said that that he’d not really said a word to him beyond “sure.”

“You’re beautiful,” Rhett managed to choke out, feeling Link graze a hand down his chest.

“I know,” Link said, smirking at him with a little wink. He was a cocky little shit and it was obvious. He knew what he was working with. “I think our time’s almost up, baby, but maybe sometime you’ll book a VIP room for us? I’d love to spend a little more time with you.” It was all about the upsell, Rhett realized, all of this tease, this drama, this talking to Rhett and telling him he was handsome, just so Link could get more money from him.

And Rhett ate it up. Next Thursday, he was getting that VIP room, budget be damned. This Thursday, he was tipping really, really good for a lapdance that left him wanting more of the slinky brunet with a cocksure attitude. “I’ll see you next week,” Rhett said, placing cash in the palm of Link’s hand and feeling as Link grasped his hand for half a second too long.


	2. VIP

Rhett wanted to pretend fact he’d been sitting outside of the strip club in the parking lot for thirty minutes wasn’t about Link. Thirty minutes. Rhett checked social media, checked his emails, did anything but enter the front doors of the club. If he was being productive, even if it was false productivity, he could convince himself he wasn’t nervous as all get out. It wasn’t that he was nervous about being there -- of course he wasn’t -- but he could tell things were escalating. A night at the club was nothing: he was simply blowing off steam from the work week before heading into stressful Friday meetings a bit more relaxed. And a lap dance? That was easy enough to explain away to the wife, laugh it off as a joke, a little thing the guys did for a laugh, a night out gone a little bit too far. He’d apologize and make up for it by doing a few extra things around the house the next week.

Besides, Link wasn’t even the first lap dance Rhett had paid for. It’s just, he was the hottest by far. Certainly, though, not the first. All of that was fine. A VIP lounge, though? That would be harder to explain away as nothing. That was Rhett with Link, Link with Rhett, and that changed the balance considerably. Of course, for Link it was a transaction. Rhett knew that. It was an ordinary night, another paying customer, nothing special in the slightest. For Rhett, it was almost giving him heart palpitations.

Sitting in the parking lot wasn’t getting him anywhere, though. He was out of emails to reply to or delete, out of articles to read, and eventually he needed to shit or get off the pot. Either he was going into the club or he was going home, and going home seemed like a terrible option. He wasn’t in the mood for a fight that night, wasn’t ready to walk into that particular lion’s den. Instead, he opened his car door and took a deep breath.

In the parking lot, he tried to talk himself out of the thoughts in his head. Just because Link wanted him to book the VIP lounge for a bit didn’t mean he had to. All that was was upselling and marketing on Link’s part, not some kind of contract. Rhett hadn’t even said he’d do it. As far as he could remember, he’d tipped well for the lap dance and told Link he’d see him soon or something. Maybe he could buy a lap dance tonight if he didn’t go for the VIP option. AGain, the lap dance was easy to brush off as a stupid mindless thing the guys goaded him into. Nevermind that he had been coming here alone for well over a month, dipping out of the guys’ usual plans. They, of course, went to a different kind of strip club, one promising loads of nude girls. He’d gone once or twice and he’d been less than impressed with it. One of his coworkers caught on to his reservations about it, bringing him to this one, the club Link worked at. They’d come together a few times but when that particular coworker left his job, he’d stopped going. After that, Rhett came alone, unable to break the habit he’d gotten into. As far as his wife knew, he was still going to the other club. If she even noticed at all, of course; she had her own indiscretions they didn’t speak of.

Link was halfway through his set when Rhett approached an empty table near the stage. Even though he’d been trying to miss Link’s set that night to resist the temptation, he kicked himself for being late and missing most of it. He approached the stage regardless, waving a tip toward Link. “Ooh, you’re here. I thought maybe you didn’t love me anymore,” Link said, winking at Rhett. He thanked a man beside Rhett for the tip, then turned his attention back to Rhett again. He’d noticed Rhett was late, clearly, and it was obvious he knew his regular customers. “We going to get a little time together tonight, handsome?”

Rhett nodded. He was always at a loss for words around Link. He needed to get it together and be less of a crazed fan, more of a communicative person who was sharing nothing more than a transaction. Link smiled and backed away from Rhett, going back to his dance. They had mere seconds to exchange words like that when Link was on-stage, so Rhett didn’t get to tell him anything. He simply had that moment to nod, get a smile, and move on, let Link collect other tips and exchange pleasantries with his other customers. Rhett was sure he was booking out lap dances for the rest of the night.

It was always boring when Link left the stage. It wasn’t like other dancers didn’t do well, but there was something magical about Link, the energy he exuded. He was why Rhett kept coming, the main draw, the big attraction. Obviously Link needed to get off the stage, not hog it like Rhett wished he could. He had to change his clothes, take a break, go do lap dances or whatever else he needed to do. Rhett used the time Link was off-stage to refresh his drink, to get another and down it, calm his nerves a little. Usually, Rhett took an Uber to the club, but that night he’d driven to buy himself time to think. If he didn’t slow down on the drinks, he’d have to leave his car at the club and get a ride home instead. It didn’t matter: Rhett needed the liquid courage.

Rhett saw Link come out from backstage, saw him walk to another customer. He wasn’t sure if he was reading into things the fact that Link seemed off his game tonight. It felt like he was rushing the dance he was doing. Maybe Rhett was just willing that to be the case even if he knew Link was giving the customer a lap dance just like his own the week before. Regardless of if Link was into it tonight, he looked damn good, Rhett thought. He had on short denim shorts, so tight you could see almost everything. On top of that, he had a button down plaid shirt over it, unbuttoned to show off his chest and abs that he’d clearly worked hard on. When he’d sway or move, the shirt would slip off of his shoulder, slide down his arm a little bit on one side, revealing even more of his lean body, his slender torso. His cowboy boots were taller than standard ones, intentionally picked to make his long legs look even better, and his cowboy hat on his head was as much a prop as part of his outfit.

By Link’s second customer, which Rhett’s eyes had followed Link to, it did seem like it was all in Rhett’s head, the off way Link acted. This time, he was clearly enjoying it, twerking and grinding, twirling and sliding his body against, around, and close to the customer with him. The customer bent but didn’t break the rules of the club -- no touching the dancers -- and the group surrounding him encouraged it, hooping and hollering at Link, catcalling him in a way that Rhett wanted to make them back off, even if it was part of the job. Jealousy coursed through Rhett’s veins with every bit of attention Link gave the group he was with, the man he was dancing for, and he reminded himself he had no right to feel that way. Link was doing his job, and Rhett was a paying customer no different from any other customer. Any connection he perceived was there was in his head. He downed his drink and bought a third, swearing he’d stop after that.

But then Link approached him and all reason went out the window. It didn’t matter if Rhett reminded himself it was strictly business… once Link’s focus was on him, that feeling of connection was back in full force. “Hey, big boy,” Link said. He was standing behind the chair Rhett was in, leaning down to his ear and tapping his fingertips and clear-polished nails gently against Rhett’s neck. “How about a dance? I saved some time for you if you want it.” Link seemed to know Rhett wouldn’t be able to say no to him if he made himself available like that.

“I’d like that,” Rhett managed to say, too shy to say anything else if only from Link’s close proximity. 

“You want to do this here? Or should we get a little more privacy this time?” Link asked him. He was close to Rhett, so close Rhett could feel his warm breath in his ear. It was spine-tingling, desire-inducing. Rhett tried his hardest to stay professional and keep it together, but by the way his breath caught in his throat, there was no way he could mask the need forming within him. The honest truth was this: it had been a very, very long time since Rhett had gotten any, and the idea Link was that close, that beautiful, that perfect was enough to make him feel urges he should have shut off. He’d never do anything improper, never anything he shouldn’t, not really, but his brain was going places his hands couldn’t go and he found himself giving in.

“How about the, um… the VIP thing?” Rhett asked, stuttering in his nervousness about the whole situation.

“Sounds perfect,” Link said, stepping around the chair to stand in front of Rhett and twisting his fingers in Rhett’s tie to tug at him. “Come on, sugar.” Rhett followed obediently, willingly, like a lost puppy. He was intrigued. VIP was new, and he had no idea what to expect. The dim lights and soft cushioned couches, the table, that all made sense. They were the kind of things a VIP room seemed like it might have. The bouncer on the other side of the curtain wasn’t a surprise, either. He was obviously there to make sure no one took advantage of the dancers they interacted with, within shouting distance to help out. Link leaned into the bouncer, whispered something. Rhett couldn’t be sure what he said -- the music was too loud and Link’s voice turned away from him -- but the bouncer gave a small nod and moved to the outside of the VIP room curtain.

“Now, where were we out there?” Link asked, giving Rhett a gentle push onto the couch. It was the sort of thing that looked more forceful than it was. In reality, it was barely a graze of Link’s hand on his chest, but it was enough to get Rhett seated on the couch, looking up at Link, who put a knee on the couch next to him. The VIP lounge gave Link space to do things he couldn’t do when Rhett was in a chair, gave him the chance to get closer, practically in Rhett’s lap. It gave a whole new meaning to the words “lap dance” because Link was taking full advantage of the space Rhett’s long, slender thighs offered.

“Wow,” Rhett said. He blushed, embarrassed he’d let the word escape, frustrated he’d said anything to Link at all about how into this he was. His physical response, though, seemed too obvious in the pants of his suit, and he longed to put his hand or one of the pillows over it, to cover it, but that seemed like it would only draw more attention to it. It was obvious his body couldn’t handle Link dropping down in front of him, sliding up again, bending over and putting his hands on the cocktail table to shake his ass inches from Rhett’s face.

“Yeah? You like it? I worked hard on that ass, baby,” Link told him, giving it another shake. “Want to feel?”

“I can’t,” Rhett said. He knew the rules well -- no touching the dancers -- and he wondered if this was some sort of trap. Perhaps the bouncer was waiting to hear Link’s invitation, waiting for Rhett to take it, so Link could holler and have him kicked out. Rhett didn’t know why he was so certain it was some kind of a set-up, but it felt like one.

“It’s just us,” Link said. “You can feel if you want.” Rhett, awkward as all get out, lifted his hand just enough to barely graze Link’s ass with a fingertip.

“Nice,” he said. Link turned toward him and pouted.

“That’s all?” He stuck out his lower lip and batted his lashes.

“What do you want from me?” Rhett asked, unsure how he’d managed to get a full sentence to come out coherently.

Link cocked his head to one side and got a wicked grin. “Don’t you want to feel it? I worked hard for it, I told you,” he said. He turned around again and bent over, shaking it. “Come on, you can get a real solid grip there if you want.” Rhett rested his hand on one cheek, flat against the shorts Link wore. “Yeah, like that… you can give it a squeeze if you want.” Rhett did, and Link groaned in a way that reverberated through Rhett’s body, getting him harder.

“You like what you feel, big boy?” Link asked.

“Yeah,” Rhett said back, quiet over the sound of the music pouring through the curtain. It took him a second to realize his hands were still on Link, and he pulled away, tucking them under his thighs. He didn’t want the temptation to touch more, to give into his desires like that.

“God, it’s so good to feel your hands on me,” Link teased, putting a hand on each side of Rhett’s legs and grinding down on him, looking over his shoulder to catch Rhett’s eyes. “Why are you so nervous, baby?”

“I’m… uh. I didn’t think I was supposed to touch you,” Rhett said. “I figured with, um… with the guy there…” he glanced at the curtain.

“Oh darlin’. He’s supposed to be in here with us and make sure nobody does anything they’re not supposed to. Especially times like this, when it’s one-on-one, just a guest and a dancer. But I asked him nicely to wait outside for us, so he’s not going to tell you not to touch me, baby. I promised him I’d make it worth breaking rules for, but I wanted you all to myself.” Rhett didn’t even want to know how Link planned to make it worth it. He swallowed heavily again, nerves getting the best of him.

Link turned around again, this time leaning into Rhett. “Oh no,” he said, feigning a wobble, “I might fall over.” He winked and took Rhett’s hand, placing it firmly on his hip. “I think you need to keep me steady here, big boy.” Rhett tried to still the shake in his hand as Link’s hand covered his, keeping it in place on his body with one hand, putting his cowboy hat on Rhett with the other. Rhett did what he could to grasp Link’s side in case he was actually about to fall, and Link smiled. “You’re so nervous. Don’t be scared.”

“Okay,” Rhett said. It wasn’t his fault he could barely speak. Link was too good at what he was doing. He basically had Rhett wrapped around his finger.

“God, you’re cute,” Link said. “I want to eat you up.” There was a self-assured nature to what he said, a cockiness in his voice, and it was obvious he liked whatever reaction he was getting from Rhett. It was almost like he wanted him a little nervous. “I like this,” he said, running his fingers through Rhett’s beard, scratching at it gently. Rhett tilted his head back a little bit, giving into the pleasure as Link touched him, grinding down on his lap. The fact that Rhett was still painfully hard made him nervous; if Link noticed, he wondered if it would be weird somehow. If Link wasn’t careful, he was going to make Rhett come. Rhett was embarrassed, but at the same time, he realized that might have been Link’s goal after all, the way he planted a foot on each side of Rhett’s thighs and used the back of the couch for stability, thrusting into Rhett’s face and then sitting in his lap, rubbing against him until Rhett was barely stifling the moans Link was causing.

“You, um… you should…” Rhett didn’t know how to tell Link that this was too much, that he needed to change position, to do anything but rub against him like that. “Stop,” he said, whispering the word.

Link did what he asked, stopping his movements, but he stayed where he was. “You don’t like it?” he asked.

“I do,” Rhett answered him. “It’s just a lot… um. Maybe if you…” Rhett tried to think of something to ask, something that would make this better, easier to handle. “Maybe turn around?”

“Okay,” Link said. He did what Rhett asked, climbing down and turning around again, giving a little bit of space. He didn’t stop dancing for Rhett, pulling Rhett’s hand back to his side. “I promise you don’t have to worry,” Link said. “It happens all the time. I think it’d be really sexy to get you off with our clothes still on.” He ran his palm along Rhett’s length through the suit pants, and Rhett inhaled sharply. It was too much. Link slid his button-down shirt off, wrapping the sleeves around his waist and tying it around himself, leaving his entire torso exposed, letting Rhett watch as he took it off. He put Rhett’s hand on his chest and guided it down his stomach, letting Rhett feel his abs, his chest, his body. “Or is it that you don’t want your wife to know when she takes your dry cleaning in?” The smirk on Link’s face made it clear: this was some sort of twisted game, the fact that he knew for Rhett, he was the forbidden fruit. Look. Don’t touch. And now he had Rhett touching, drawn in a little bit deeper, and Rhett was about to fall headfirst, dive right in, bite the apple.

“How, um. How did you know?” Rhett asked.

“Your finger has a little indent from where your ring goes, darlin’. Trust me, you ain’t slick and I’m not stupid. It happens a lot.” He ground down on Rhett again. This wasn’t like any lap dance Rhett had before, the aim to tease and tantalize. Link had a different aim, something more earnest, like he was trying to get Rhett worked up way more than he should have.

“It’s complicated,” Rhett muttered under his breath.

“I’m sure it is,” Link said, getting himself closer to Rhett’s face again. The bulge there was obvious and Rhett couldn’t be sure if it was just how tight the shorts were or if Link was hard, too. If he was, Rhett didn’t know if he was getting off on the friction like Rhett, or on the way he had Rhett so messed up, caught with his hand in the cookie jar, at a strip club on a Thursday night instead of home with his wife. “I hate doing this, sweetheart, because damn, you’re a lot of fun, even if you’re quiet,” Link said, “but our time’s almost up. You have any last-second requests?” He winked at Rhett again.

Rhett bit his lip and shook his head, and Link cocked his head to the side curiously. “Don’t you like me, big boy?” he asked, his grin wicked. He was trying to be tempting, a serpent in a garden, and Rhett could see it but he couldn’t resist.

“I do,” Rhett said. Link too Rhett’s hand again, running Rhett’s fingertips along his waistband, then grazing his hand down the front of his shorts.

“See what you do to me?” Link asked him. There was no question now of if he was hard or not. Rhett was dazed by the pleasure he felt in this, his body responding in ways he couldn’t control, and he would have given anything to rip Link’s clothes off of him, to take him right there in the dimmed room. But that  _ was  _ off-limits. “You know,” Link said, leaning in close again, breath on Rhett’s ear so no one could hear but the two of them, “I do have a side job. If you ever want to, you know, stay a little later after my shift? I might be able to accommodate any--” he ground down on Rhett’s lap again “--other needs you might have. Just the two of us, you know, not here.”

The proposition terrified and thrilled Rhett. It was clear he might get played, that this could be a set-up. Or, he considered, it could have been an invitation to something hot, desperate, thrilling, a chance to give into carnal desires he’d never let himself experience. At least on his end. On Link’s, as always, Rhett was certain it was strictly business.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks, fanbabble, for the last-second beta read. You're a true hero. <333


	3. The D Word

**_I have to work late tonight._ **

 

**When don’t you?**

 

It was the snarky response to his message that left Rhett frustrated. He’d already been sure he was going to go through with Link’s offer, to hang around after the club closed, but the reply he’d gotten to his text home only solidified his resolve to do it.

 

**_I mean later than normal._ **

 

**Yeah, okay.**

 

**_Are you mad at me?_ **

 

**Seriously, Rhett?**

**Stop pretending we don’t both know what you do when you have to “work late.”**

 

Mad was an understatement. They’d been fighting all week, and as a result, Rhett had been on the couch for the last several days, tossing and turning and wondering where he’d gone wrong. The reality was obvious: he married young, probably too young. They both had changed so much over the last eight years, to the point that they were different people than they’d been from the start. The thing was, Rhett knew logically that people changed. He’d just always assumed they would have changed together instead of growing apart even more.

Not that their foundation was entirely solid to begin with. There was a big secret Rhett had kept from her from the beginning, one that loomed over his head every time they were in bed together. He wasn’t, unfortunately, actually interested in women. Not a lot. Not a little. At first, he brushed it away with nerves on the occasion when the stimulation itself wasn’t enough to help him. Later, he took to picturing someone else in her place, especially as she stopped trying to please him. Not that he was being fair to her -- he almost never went down on her. In the year before they’d stopped having sex, he had resorted to everything from over the counter herbal supplements to a Viagra prescription he hadn’t told her about. Anything to get it up, anything to make it seem like he was interested. She was beautiful. Anyone could have seen that. She had classic looks, flowing brown hair, stunning eyes. When they’d first gotten married, she was his best friend. He thought that would be enough to carry them through, even if he couldn’t feel any kind of sexual response to her at all.

It hadn’t been enough, though. Not as they’d changed and found other interests. She’d been the first to cheat, too, with a coworker. He’d been angry but not at all surprised, and he realized his anger wasn’t even something he had a right to. She deserved someone to make her feel good, and if it was someone other than him, that was fine. The thing that broke them apart further, though, was Rhett saying “if he makes you happy, fine. Do what you want.” She’d expected him to fight harder, to beg her back, to try more than ever to make her happy. Instead, he’d responded with an affair of his own, hoping that if she couldn’t get him off, maybe another woman could. But she didn’t, either, and it was then that Rhett realized he wasn’t just uninterested in his wife, but all women. It didn’t matter. The damage of his affair had been done, and even though he broke it off, marriage counseling had done little to repair their heart.

How his sexuality hadn’t come up in counseling, he wasn’t sure. He was pretty sure the Viagra had helped mask some of it, or otherwise he was certain she would have made it very clear how much he didn’t want to sleep with her. And when he’d been told to make an effort by the therapist, he had. Begrudgingly, and with a mindset of trying to imagine someone else in her place, but he’d done what he had to.

None of it had helped, and here they were, fighting over the fact that he’d be home late again, fighting all week long about him being late the past few weeks. She had thrown a hairbrush at him earlier that week, had told him that if he didn’t get his act together, he’d need to leave.

He responded with flowers. He wasn’t sure why he even tried, why either of them tried. Was the cost and energy of getting a divorce really as bad as it seemed? He wasn’t sure, but he was certain part of why they were clinging to their marriage now was to make their parents happy. They were from the south and divorce was so heavily frowned upon. Rhett knew they were already disappointed about the lack of grandkids, but he was happy they hadn’t had kids together. He wanted them desperately, but the last thing they needed was to be brought into a marriage that was this tense.

 

**_Don’t pretend like you know anything about my job or me working late._ **

 

**It’s better if you do work late. I don’t think you want to come home and see what happens when you’re not here.**

 

That was a low blow. Part of him realized she could be bluffing, that he could come home and she’d be in her pajamas, eating ice cream and watching Netflix for the sixth straight hour. The other part of him knew that with as beautiful as she was, as lonely as he’d left her, as bad as things had gotten, coming home to find her in bed with someone else wasn’t remotely outside of the realm of possibility. He wasn’t sure what would be better, but he knew if it was the latter, it would be easier to walk away for good this time.

 

**_Making empty threats doesn’t help either of us. So what if I do come home? You really think that changes anything?_ **

 

**Your pillow will be on the couch waiting for you, but don’t bother coming home. Find a hotel near “the office” or stay with whoever you’re fucking behind my back. I don’t really care. I need some space.**

 

**_YOU need space? Screw you. I’ll be home tomorrow to pack a bag of clothes. Don’t worry, I’ll wait until you’re out with the girls getting wasted before I swing by._ **

 

**Go fuck yourself. You want to play like that? I can call the attorney first thing tomorrow.**

 

They both knew she wouldn’t. They’d thrown the threat back and forth a few times before, saying they would and never doing it. He wondered when the other shoe would drop, when one of them would finally pull the pin and explode the tense fragments of a marriage that remained. For now, though, she was all talk and he knew it. But now there was nothing to say, no response to send, no way to reply to her at all. He couldn’t say he wasn’t doing what she assumed he was, because he was already set on spending whatever he had to for a night with Link. Part of him was nervous… he’d never been with a man before, not beyond small college experimentations, half-drunken makeouts he’d brushed off as “bros being bros.” This was different. He was paying for a prostitute, so clearly whatever he was doing, he was going all-in on.

He worried, too, that maybe there was something wrong with him and he wouldn’t be able to get hard with Link, either, that it wasn’t about her being a woman but about his own shortcomings as a man. He tried to brush that thought out of his head, to remember the fact that even the most basic stripteases from Link had been enough to get him worked up, hot and bothered, aching to get off. The week before, after the VIP room and Link’s offer, he’d left and jerked off in his car, wiping away the evidence on a McDonald’s napkin he’d discarded in the parking lot, a complete litterbug. The last thing he needed was come-soaked napkins in his car, though, so he decided to take that route instead.

Obviously, what Link did worked for him, and the thought of having him alone, alone and naked and willing to do whatever Rhett was willing to pay for… that was a lot more than he could handle. Before he could second-guess it again, he was realizing he was hard at work, aching and sensitive. A bathroom break seemed like the right response, the best idea. He could slip away, take care of it, but the reality was he’d have to walk through the entire office with a raging hard-on.

Instead, he pulled forward, trying to get as far under his desk as he could. Everyone nearby was busy with their own tasks, and his office walls reached almost to the ceiling. If he was quiet and kept his door closed, he could get off right here, could do what he needed to do. Part of him wanted to resist, to save it, but the other part realized that if he did, he’d probably come too fast with Link to really enjoy what he’d be paying for.

He focused, unfastening his pants and wiggling them down just enough to give himself the freedom. He wrapped his hand around himself and stroked, biting his lip to try to stifle any sounds that might have threatened to come out.

Thinking about Link was working for him, thinking about the way he wiggled his lithe body on stage, the way he ground against Rhett, rubbing on him in the VIP room, the way he’d tried hard to make him come right there.

It was enough for him, making him leak onto his hand as he ran his fingers over the tip, lifted them to his lips and tasted, imagining what Link might taste like, what it would feel like to have Link on him, in him, whatever. He knew he didn’t have the access he needed to slide a finger into himself like he did at home in the shower, but he could keep stroking, keep his hand moving as he did everything he could not to let his heavy breathing become too audible.

He was quiet when he came, pulling back just in time to watch it come out, spill onto the surface of his desk. He licked off what had fallen on his hand and again thought of Link, what it might be like to taste him. For the rest, he resorted to the box of tissues on his desk, wiping up and discarding them in the trash.

He didn’t know what the night was going to hold, but he did know that there was no way in hell he’d have issues getting it up with Link. He was already clearly too interested, too ready, too desperate for whatever he was going to get. At this point, it didn’t matter: he’d drain his bank account if he had to. He wanted to feel Link. He wanted, desperately, more than anything, to get fucked. After all, his wife had suggested he go fuck himself. He figured doing that with someone else’s dick sounded like the next best thing.


	4. Working Late

Rhett realized on his way to the club how he should have found it comical that all those weeks of “working late” had turned into one night of actually working late on the one night he couldn’t afford to stay at the office.

His body ached for what was supposed to happen that night, and now one massive project threatened to ruin it. He watched the hours tick by as he scrambled to get it done, but since parts of his effort were contingent on others, he was entirely at their mercy, waiting for emails that felt like they’d never come.

At seven, he knew it was okay if he had to stick around for another hour. He didn’t want to look over-eager, and Link didn’t usually go on until later anyway. He continued scribbling in notes on the plans he was working out, where to put a specific pipe so it wouldn’t interfere with access to a bridge.

At eight, he started to worry. Even if he left the office now, it was a six-block drive to the club, and by the time he got parked and went inside, Link would likely already be going on stage. He waited for an email that wasn’t getting to him, drumming his fingers in annoyance as he checked email on his phone and hit refresh on his computer, as if it would miraculously show up one of those places sooner.

At nine, he started to lose a little hope. Link would likely already be in the midst of his set, one Rhett wouldn’t get to see. If he wasn’t there now, would Link even remember what he’d offered to Rhett? Would he think Rhett had chickened out and decided not to do it? If Rhett didn’t seriously need his job, he would have walked out right then, but projects had deadlines and the presentation was in the morning. If he missed that, didn’t have this ready, he’d be thoroughly fucked, and not in a good way, not in a Link way.

At ten, he was about to give up, to go straight home after, to crash on the couch because even if he’d been told not to go home, what the hell else was he supposed to do? If she was being serious, if he was walking in on her having whatever fun she wanted, then whatever, so be it, he could listen from the couch or whatever. It didn’t matter anymore. None of it did. What did matter was the fact that Rhett didn’t have a way to text Link, to explain to him that he hadn’t chickened out or changed his mind, but that work was killing his vibe completely. He’d prepared for this, he’d waited for it, he’d wanted it. Hell, he’d bought a douche kit from a corner store and spent his lunch break  _ really  _ preparing. All of that work wasted because Johnson couldn’t get his fucking act together, couldn’t get the plans worked out in a timely manner.

Somehow Rhett’s only solace came in the form of knowing he wasn’t alone. His coworkers wanted to be at their club as much as he wanted to be at his.

“You believe they’ve got us here so late?” Josh leaned against Rhett’s open door, cup of coffee in his hand. Rhett wouldn’t be surprised if the coffee didn’t have something added, something aside from cream and sugar.

“No, I’m… I’m exhausted, too,” Rhett fudged, yawning.

“Tired? You’re no fun. I was just thinking about how I’ve probably missed out on a lap dance from Honey. Ungh, she is one gorgeous piece, you know that?” He bit his knuckles and closed his eyes, as if the sheer thought of her was too much for him.

“Can’t relate, man. I’m locked down, remember?” Rhett raised his left hand, waggling his fingers.

“Are you? Where’s the ring?” Josh raised an eyebrow.

“Aw, fuck,” Rhett grumbled. “Must have taken it off to do dishes earlier.” It hit him after he’d done it that it had been in his car console for a week. He’d never remembered to put it on after the club last time, and that must not have helped the sore spot in their relationship any. He was sure now that she’d noticed, that she’d seen he hadn’t been wearing it. Her attitude made even more sense than it had before.

“Yeah,” Josh nodded. “So listen, you should come for drinks with us after this, get a little lubed up before the presentation tomorrow.”

“Nah, I really have to get home after,” Rhett said. He didn’t want to go with them. He wanted to go to the club, to find Link, to see if that was still an option. For all he knew, though, Link had found someone else to spend the evening with, had found someone else through a lapdance, a VIP room, all the same things Rhett had done with him. Rhett couldn’t blame him. Someone else there was more deserving of time with Link after. If they were giving him the attention he needed, deserved tonight, then it was all his fault for not being there sooner.

“Man, I wouldn’t pay to have your life. Can’t just text the missus this once? Or hell, you’re already working late. Tell her you were still at the office,” Josh encouraged. He stepped closer to Rhett, giving a warm smile.

“I can’t, man. Maybe next time.”

Josh licked his lips and let out a soft sigh before taking a sip of his coffee. “Yeah, next time.” Rhett didn’t have time to read the disappointment there, because Josh’s phone pinged --  _ what kind of person doesn’t keep their phone on vibrate?  _ \-- and it snapped them both back to attention. “Hey, looks like the draft is done. Good luck, man.”

It was Rhett’s job now, all in Rhett’s hands, to polish it quickly and get it sent out to the team for final approval so they could all leave. Sometimes he wished he worked somewhere where this sort of thing could be done from home, but then he realized the more hours he spent away from home, the better.

“Thanks,” Rhett said, turning back to his computer and giving a small wave to Josh, who was already retreating from his office. Anyone who wanted to get home knew better than to talk to Rhett right now. It would only delay work further. But as Rhett struggled to get it done, Josh’s conversation still tugged at him, as did the fact that he needed to get out of here if he wanted a single shot at seeing Link. A couple more hours and the club would be issuing last calls, final rounds, and he’d be out of luck. Who knew if Link would even speak to him next week if he didn’t make it tonight?

At eleven, Rhett put the final touches on it and sent the email out. He watched the clock, praying everyone was looking at it immediately.

At four after eleven, his email pinged with a “looks good,” and he realized he needed three more of those before he could be done. It took six minutes longer to get a second, and another three to get a third. Josh chimed in last, just before 11:30. “Love it. See you tomorrow, boys.” For someone anxious to go, Rhett was annoyed that Josh had taken so long to respond.

As Rhett made a beeline for the door, keys in hand, it shouldn’t have been any surprise that it was Josh who stopped him. “Hey, you sure you don’t want to go for some drinks? Everyone else is on board, man. You’re the only holdout.”

“I’m sure,” Rhett said. “Really, next time.”

“I’m holding you to that,” Josh said, a hand on Rhett’s elbow. “Here,” he said, taking his hand and reaching up to Rhett’s tie, loosening it slightly as he unbuttoned the top button. “Loosen up a little.”


	5. Frequent Customer

Rhett’s skin burned from Josh’s touch, as if he knew exactly what Rhett was doing, as if he knew that he was lying about going home. “Loosen up,” he’d said, and that felt damning, like he’d read Rhett’s face, known he was about to head to a club, to hire a man for sex. It felt like a challenge, an “I know all of your secrets.” Rhett didn’t like the feeling, but he squished it down, focusing only on the road in front of him, the one that led him to the club.

He obviously knew Link was still working, knew that there was time to see him, but it felt like he’d already have someone new in mind by this point in the night. It was late. Rhett couldn’t be upset if he’d found another way to make his money for the night, assuming Rhett wouldn’t show. But when Rhett ducked inside, looked around, eyes scanning the room, Link was nowhere to be seen. It sucked, the thought that Link truly  _ was  _ focused on someone else. Rhett couldn’t wrap his mind around the idea that Link might be on break or something. And when he emerged from one of the VIP sections, curtained off, bouncer in tow, it was pretty obvious what he’d been doing. Rhett wondered if he’d extended the same offer to that client, the same hushed whisper of “I’m free sometime after this” and he wondered if that customer would jump on the deal or hesitate the way he had done.

He prayed for the latter, then felt a pang of guilt. Link deserved to make money, to have the success he wanted, even if it didn’t come from Rhett. Part of him hoped that Link went home with someone else, went anywhere with someone else, if only to remove his temptation and make him stave this desire off for one more week, to resist just a little longer. It was the fear of accepting that worried him, the idea that if he did this, he’d officially gone too far.

He’d been playing with fire this entire time, coming here, buying time, and to buy time for  _ that  _ was practically inexcusable. At that point why not just admit that his marriage was over and done with, no longer worth salvaging? This was past cheating. This was paid cheating, a whole different realm. Rhett briefly considered the fact, as he watched Link approach someone else, dance on them, using their shoulder and their chair for leverage, that it was worse that he was paying for it. Couldn’t he be a normal guy, someone committing infidelity the usual way? Did he really have to buy it? He wondered if there was something wrong with him that he couldn’t find a man willing to for free. Or perhaps there were some, and he’d never bothered to look.

It didn’t matter either way. He was here, and Link was focused on someone else. Going home with him probably wasn’t an option, and Rhett considered heading for the door. Hell, if he moved quickly, he probably wasn’t too late to catch up to whatever Josh had planned. A quick text and he’d find him, drink with the guys, talk shop probably in preparation for the meeting the next day. But he couldn’t bring himself to do it, to leave. His eyes followed Link to someone new. Everything about this was merely a caricature of intimacy instead of the real thing. If you squinted, it looked like love, like people were connecting naturally, but strip away the rose-colored glasses and you’d see the gritty reality. Lonely people, paying for lust and romance in a place that was built on the right price tag and enough liquor to act as motivation, to strip away the regret that would follow in the morning, hurled into a toilet of a motel as the customer prayed for relief and paid for the sense to not make these mistakes again. Or at least, that’s how it seemed to the cynic in Rhett who didn’t currently have Link’s attention.

But then he felt the tickle of breath on his ear and his rosy perception came back, the one that had faith that this wasn’t a mere transaction, that this wasn’t alcohol-and-lust-and-money fueled temporary insanity. “Hey there, handsome.”

“Hey,” Rhett breathed, turning his head to look at Link, who was almost too close for comfort, lips inches from Rhett’s. A minor movement from either of them and they’d have full contact, something strictly forbidden. Rhett felt thrilled, but he felt uneasy. This was a lot to take in.

“I’m off in thirty minutes.”

“Yeah?” Rhett asked. He was afraid to bring up what Link had mentioned before. For one, he couldn’t be sure who was listening, and for two, he wasn’t sure that Link still wanted him to remember that.

“So I was thinking,” Link said, fingers making their way along Rhett’s bare skin around his neck -- he’d taken Josh’s advice, ditched the tie in his car, left the top couple of buttons open -- “what if when I get off work, you meet me out front in your car?”

“I can do that,” Rhett said. “I drive a Ford Fusion.”

“I always wanted one of those,” Link chuckled, but Rhett could hear the tone in his voice. What kind of stiff willingly drove a fucking Fusion? Part of Rhett wondered if he really did need to loosen up, if Josh was right about that. It didn’t matter, not now, not when Rhett was about to get exactly what he wanted. “Okay, handsome. I’ll meet you outside, then. Unless you, hmm… unless you want me to get you going now, maybe start with a lapdance?”

Rhett couldn’t resist that, forking over cash for the first song, knowing he’d pay for a second song, take as much of the last few minutes of Link’s time in here as he could, and praying he’d have enough money for what he wanted after. He didn’t even remotely know what to expect to pay for that part of things. Heck, he didn’t know how Link even priced that? Hourly? Per service? He pushed the thought out of his head, focusing on Link’s body moving so close to his. In an hour, they’d hopefully be closer, skin-to-skin, without the forced distance and music and anything else between them, Rhett hoped. Link did the best he could to make lots of contact, grinding on Rhett anytime no one was watching.

He felt the moan escape from his lips more than he heard it. He was achingly hard when Link leaned in, lips touching his ear this time. “Don’t come yet, baby. Save that for after work.” Rhett shuddered at the feeling of Link’s whisper on his ear, at the touch of his soft lips, at the way he worked against him. He thanked his lucky stars that he’d already jacked off at work earlier, otherwise Link’s request may have proved damn near impossible. “You’re so handsome, baby. I got lucky that you wanted some more time, I think,” Link said just as the song ended.

“I want another dance,” Rhett choked out. “Please?” He hadn’t had enough alcohol to feel okay saying as much as he was. He’d only had time for one drink, just barely getting his order in before last call.

“Anything you want,” Link said. “Truly, anything.”

Rhett was sure there was a limit, that anything didn’t mean anything, but he liked the illusion that it did, the idea that for the next few minutes, Link was at his beck and call and would do anything he asked. Of course, all he’d asked for was one more song like this, with Link in his lap and his hands rubbing at Rhett’s beard. “I really like beards. Yours is so soft, too.”

“I, uh… I have beard oil,” Rhett says. “Special blend.”

“That’s sexy. I love when a man takes good care of himself,” Link said. Rhett couldn’t tell if he was talking Rhett up to try to get into the mood, or if he was genuinely into it, into him. If the way Link was reaching his hand between his own legs, palming at Rhett, taking peeks to make sure no bouncers were watching was any indication, it made him feel a whole lot better about it.

Rhett could tell the song was about to end and that was probably for the best. He wasn’t sure how much longer he could hold out with that much stimulation -- he hadn’t had another person touch him that much in a very long time -- especially if he wanted time with Link after. It was borderline too much for him.

“I would love to give you one more dance, but it’s time for me to go get cleaned up and get changed, baby. See you in the car?” He planted a kiss on Rhett’s cheek, then slid off of his lap and winked at him.

“Thanks,” Rhett said, extending cash in his hand.

“Oh no, baby. Second dance was on me. Consider it a frequent customer reward.”


	6. Spent

Rhett’s palms were sweating as he waited for Link to come out to his car. He wasn’t sure what to think. Link said he was changing but Rhett didn’t know what that meant. Was there some sort of specific outfit he wore for this kind of thing? Or gosh, would Rhett see him in his normal, everyday wear? He wasn’t sure. He wondered what that would even be like, what Link would wear outside of work. If the outfits in the club were any indication of his typical style, it could be damn near anything. This week, it had been leather, shorts short, glitter streaked across his cheeks, a harness, fingerless gloves. The week before, it was that cowboy getup with boots and denim shorts. Pinpointing his style wasn’t easy.

Thinking about what Link would wear, though, was arguably easier than considering what else was about to happen. He wasn’t sure he could handle thinking about that, thinking about the possibilities or what might happen. He wasn’t sure what that was going to be like, either, if Link had a certain plan for them, if he needed to get a hotel or if they were going to do something quick in the parking lot. A lot depended on Link’s rates, he figured. He didn’t even know what the going rate for something like this was, what Link would charge him for a few minutes, a few hours, the whole night, if that was even an option. Probably more than he could afford, but at this point he’d pay anything for a few minutes of Link’s time.

The parking lot was clearing out, his Fusion one of the few cars remaining in the lot, a few other stragglers hanging around, someone leaning against a car smoking. But for the most part, it was just Rhett, waiting, wondering.

He couldn’t help but inhale sharply when he saw the slender man approaching his car. Out of his stripping attire, he was barely recognizable, but Rhett could tell, bathed in the red light from the front of the bar, that it was Link, and damn, he looked good. His outfit now was a far cry from the skimpy things he wore inside, but his tight fitted graphic tee shirt and skin-tight jeans looked damn good on him. Rhett bit his lip hard, grounding himself to the fact that this was real, that the god of a man walking toward his car was there and was walking toward him and -- for the right price -- he was all Rhett’s, at least for the moment.

Link ducked into Rhett’s car without a knock, slipping into the passenger seat like it was nothing. “Hey,” he breathed.

“Hey,” Rhett answered.

“So,” Link said, leaning onto the center console, easing his hand up Rhett’s leg, “what’s the plan?”

“I-I don’t know,” Rhett said, hesitant.

“No clue at all?” Link asked, sticking out his lower lip like he was pouting. “Come on, babe. If you could have anything, what would it be?”

“Anything?” Rhett asked. Anything was a big ask. Anything was more than he could wrap his brain around easily. Anything was intense.

“Or, y’know, we could start smaller,” Link said, snaking his hand to the button of Rhett’s jeans, playing with it but not unfastening it. Rhett was struggling not to get hard from even the simplest touches, the smallest expressions of intimacy. “Here’s the deal. I usually ask $50 if I’m going to suck you off right here in the parking lot. I can do that if that’s your thing, quick and dirty, back home to your wife after a half-hour delay right here with me. Or we can drive to the hourly motel up the road, you pay for a room and give me $100, and I’m yours for that whole hour. I can give you a massage, finish it with a little, uh, happy ending if you want. Or hell, we can get right to it in that time. But, uh,” Link moved his hand up to Rhett’s beard, turning Rhett’s head and forcing him to look at him. They were inches apart in the small space and Rhett was struggling to process as Link leaned in and whispered in his ear, “I really think you’d be fun to spend more time with.”

“Yeah?” Rhett asked. It was a way to get more money, Rhett reminded himself. Why settle for $50 or $100 if he knew he could talk Rhett into a night? Still, he wanted to hear what Link was offering.

“What if,” Link leaned back a little, hand still on Rhett’s cheek, “we get a room for the night. Usually I just multiply that hourly rate by as many hours as we’re talking, but I’m guessing a working man like you has to be up early and we only have about 5, 6 hours left together. I’ll do anything you want in that time for $300.”

That was a steal, if Link was being honest. Of course, Rhett couldn’t be sure this wasn’t the same deal that Link gave everyone, that he made them think they were getting some kind of steal. “Or, we could stick with that $50 quick and dirty thing and I can show you just how good I am with my tongue.” Link dropped his hand back to Rhett’s crotch and gave it a small squeeze, unrestrained and unphased now that there were no bouncers to stop him from touching Rhett or Rhett touching him back.

Instead, Rhett reached for his seatbelt, hand resting on Link’s hand for a second before moving it to the gearshift. “A night sounds good.”  _ What the hell am I doing? _

“Good,” Link said, reaching above his shoulder for his seatbelt. “If you want a cheap motel, turn right up here. It’s like a block and a half. But we can go anywhere you want, baby.”

Rhett followed Link’s directions. If he was spending $300 on the time with him, he couldn’t afford an expensive place for the night by any means. He was making enough poor spending choices as it was.

 

Inside the motel room, he was just as awkward as in the car. Paying $300 didn’t mean he knew what he was doing by any means. “Do I, um… should I pay you now?” Rhett asked.

“I trust you’re good for it,” Link said. “But yeah, usually I ask guys to pay me up front. You get me whenever, though, okay? We can deal with it in the morning.” Link stepped around him, wrapping his arms around Rhett from behind and unbuttoning a couple more buttons on his shirt. “Are you always this nervous?” His hand grazed Rhett’s chest, past the fabric he’d unbuttoned. “Or do you loosen up sometimes?”

There were those words again, the same ones Josh had said earlier.  _ Loosen up.  _ Rhett wasn’t sure he knew how.

“I loosen up,” he said quietly. Link didn’t have to know he was lying.

“Good,” Link said. “Seems like you work really hard, too.” Rhett wasn’t sure if it was because of his professional attire or if it was the fact that he was shelling out so much money for a night with Link. Maybe it was his briefcase in the car, or the fact that he was so stiff and nervous.

“Yeah,” Rhett said, for lack of anything better to say. Instead, he let Link keep unbuttoning his shirt.

“Is this okay?” Link asked him, and Rhett nodded.

“Yeah,” he said again. “It’s okay. I’m sorry I’m-- um… I’m sorry I’m so, uh…” He didn’t want to say nervous, or awkward, or weird. It felt like he’d be planting those ideas in Link’s head as if Link didn’t already see that from a mile away.

“Hey,” Link said, sliding his shirt off of his shoulders and planting a small kiss on one. “It’s okay. First time. Nerves get the best of us all. Let me see if I can help you relax, okay?” he offered. He kissed closer to Rhett’s spine this time. “Have any limits?”

“What do you mean?”

“Things I can’t do. For example, a limit for me is kissing. You can kiss me anywhere beneath the shoulders, but not above. Fair?”

“That sounds fair,” Rhett said quietly. He hadn’t anticipated being told not to kiss him. That seemed like basic-level intimacy, kissing, sort of the place where sex started from, so the thought of not kissing seemed weird. Still, he respected it.

“So what about you? What are your limits?”

“I guess, um… don’t leave any marks,” Rhett said. “Like, uh, hickeys or whatever. But I guess if we don’t kiss that’s probably not an issue,” he said, feeling weird about saying it.

“Got it. Don’t let the wife know. That’s easy,” Link said. “She’s missing out. You’re handsome as hell. If she’s not tapping this, damn, I don’t understand.”

“I guess the other limit would be, um, maybe we shouldn’t talk about her?” Rhett said, hesitantly in a way that made it almost a question.

“No marks. No wife. I can work with that,” Link said. “Now, what are we going to do with our time?”

“What do you think?” Rhett asked. He didn’t know. He didn’t know how to begin.

“I think we get you out of this,” Link said, slowly getting Rhett’s shirt the rest of the way off of him. “Really get you loose.” He kept kissing Rhett’s back softly, and Rhett wondered what it was about shoulders-down that Link was okay with that he wasn’t good for with shoulders-up. For someone leaving so many kisses on him, it seemed strange not to be able to reciprocate in a way that was whipping around, cupping Link’s chin, pulling him into a kiss that rocked his world. Not that Rhett figured he was any good at world-rocking kisses. That seemed a little advanced considering he was paying for an intimate moment in a hotel room since his whole life was one big strike out.

“And this,” Link said, stepping around Rhett to unfasten his belt. “Mmm, this could be fun,” Link said, snapping the belt between his hands. “You’d need to use it on me, though. It’s the kind of thing that would leave a mark.”

“I-- uh… you could spank me with it,” Rhett offered. “Mostly I meant no marks that anyone could see.” He shuffled his feet, looking at the ground. “Nobody’s gonna see my ass.”

“That’s a damn shame,” Link answered him, cupping it with one of his hands, giving it a squeeze. “It’s a really, really nice ass. You sure you want me to tear it up with this belt? It’ll hurt.”

_ Good.  _ Rhett craved that, the idea of punishing himself, being punished by Link, for the carnal desires he was giving into. This felt like the perfect way to get back at what he was doing, to realize that he was making a mistake like this to feel whatever Link could made him feel… it made sense. “I want it.”

“Good,” Link said breathily. “Pants off. Shoes off. Green means you’re okay, yellow means you’re close to your limit, say red and I’ll stop right away.” Link was very no-nonsense about it now that Rhett had consented, watching as Rhett stripped his pants and shoes off, piling them in a heap on a chair with his shirt draped over the back of it. Rhett reached to remove his underwear, too. “Did I mention underwear, baby?” Link asked him, reaching up to take Rhett’s hair and push him face-first onto the mattress, bent over it to expose his ass, underwear the only thing on it. “Spread,” Link said. Rhett was a little too stunned to contribute much verbally, instead following Link’s instructions exactly. “God, this is a really, really nice ass,” Link said again. He practically hissed a whistle through his teeth as he glided his hand over it, less fabric in between his hand and Rhett’s body now. “I cannot wait to destroy you,” Link said with a small tap. Rhett couldn’t be sure if Link was talking to him as a person or his ass specifically.

Still, he answered. “Destroy me,” he choked out. “Please.”

“Mmm, and we have manners? That’s sexy, baby.” He ran the edge of the folded belt along Rhett’s ass, underwear still on it. “What’s your color?”

“Green.”

“Perfect.” Link didn’t warn him before slapping his ass with the belt.

“Fuck!” Rhett yelped, leaning further onto the bed and burying his face in the blanket.

“Color?” Link asked. It was clear he was wondering if Rhett had already reached his upper limit, his stopping point with just one smack.

“Green,” Rhett gasped.

“You sure?”

“Green,” Rhett repeated surely this time. That was enough for Link, who unleashed the belt on his ass twice more in quick succession. “Oh my  _ god,”  _ he groaned. “Fuck, that’s so good.” He didn’t have to give a color indication this time. His words spoke volumes, pleasure taking over for nerves.

“Someone’s a little kinky, clearly,” Link told him, and for Rhett, that was news. He had never really been kinky. He’d had quick, missionary, vanilla sex in a darkened room, two separate women at two separate times and he’d enjoyed very little of it. Shaking it up was usually limited to trying it doggy style instead, and that also wasn’t great. Kink? That was new.

“Fuck, Link, I need it.” Rhett wondered if it was weird for him to use Link’s stage name, instead of his actual name, but he wasn’t bold enough to ask, and he wouldn’t disrespect Link by trying to find out his real name, either. Instead, he stuck with Link, the only name Link had ever offered him, and Link leaned into it good, pulling his underwear up between the cleft of his ass, exposing his cheeks without taking the clothing off.

“You’re getting nice and red already. You sure you want to break the rule about marks, baby? This is sort of your last chance texaco. Speak now or forever hold your peace.”

“Mark me,” Rhett answered. He’d broken his first rule so quickly, so easily. He wondered how soon he’d break the rest of his resolve, let Link bring color to his neck and wrists and any other visible places, how soon he’d confess more about his loveless marriage. For now, though, it was just this, bliss and the feeling of Link’s hand caressing his reddened skin.

Rhett wouldn’t have thought removing such a thin layer of fabric would have made much of a difference, but it did. Link practically tugged him upwards by the underwear as he laid out more punishments across Rhett’s skin. One smack for the way Rhett had been so naughty to pay for lapdances week after week. One for the way he’d refused to loosen up no matter how many times people told him he should. One for how he was lying to his wife by even being here tonight. One for the lies he told himself every Sunday when he sat in his pew, pretending he was a good, sinless man who wasn’t plagued by desires of his flesh constantly. Link didn’t name the spankings as such, no. It was the internal game Rhett played with himself, the way he equated spankings with the things he’d done wrong, the way he relished in the release for them.

“Color?” Link asked again, now that welts striped the pale flesh in front of him.

“Green.”

“Jesus, do you have a limit?” Link asked him, tugging his underwear down and wailing on him several times before a response. Spots of red where blood had raised to the surface under the skin were visible now, and Rhett still hadn’t stopped him. “Color?”

“Green.”

“You could let this go on all night, couldn’t you?” Link asked him, voice almost awed, it seemed.

“As long as you want it to,” Rhett confessed to him. Truly, as long as Link wanted him like this, he’d be like this.

“It’s fun, the way you’re okay with letting me do this, but I have some other things in mind,” Link said. “Remember, colors don’t only work for pain. You want me to stop, you tell me red and I’ll stop,” Link reminded him. He stood behind Rhett, shifting against Rhett’s ass and pressing his cock, still straining against his jeans, against Rhett’s bare skin. “Do you see how worked up you get me, being so pliable like this?”

“Yes,” Rhett said.

“You think you’d let me fuck you just like this?” Link asked him, pushing against him again, this time a hard thrust that sent Rhett reeling forward all over again. The way Link pushed against him, spread his ass and thrust against him even though Link was still fully clothed had Rhett desperate for him to take it further.

“You can fuck me any way you want me,” Rhett told him.

“Yeah? You want to be fucked?” Link asked. “Want to fuck me? What is it, baby? You can have anything you want, remember?”

“I want you to fuck me,” Rhett said, voice clear and unrestrained. More than anything, he wanted Link to fuck him, to take him right there on the cheap motel mattress, let him moan his name and get off, feeling how he wanted, free for the first time ever to have the kind of sex that turned him on, the stuff he’d watch at night on his phone in an incognito window while his wife slept beside him, the stuff he’d lock himself in the bathroom to watch because he was dying to feel that way, to take a cock just like that.

“Good. You gotta be willing to work for it,” Link said, weaving his fingers through Rhett’s hair and yanking him up backwards. Rhett followed the pull, scalp searing a little with the rapid movement. “Why do I get the feeling you like it a little rough?” Link asked.

“Because I do,” Rhett said, as if he knew.

“Get on your fucking knees, then, baby.”

Rhett did what he was told, getting to his knees, bare skin scratching against the cheap carpeting. He wasn’t complaining. It kept him grounded, kept him in the moment, kept him remembering this was  _ real.  _

“Color?”

“Green.”

“Fuck, Rhett. You’re really compliant. That color going to stay a green if I fuck your throat? Make you my good little slut? It’s okay if it won’t. And it’s okay if you say it will and change your mind. I’m just wondering what you’re down for, baby.”

“It’ll be green. I’ll take anything you give me,” Rhett told him.

“Then I guess I better be ready for anything,” Link answered, running his fingers through Rhett’s beard again. “God, I’m going to coat this beard in come. I can’t wait to see how good it looks glazed with it. But uh, first I’m gonna fuck you every way I can.”

“Okay,” Rhett said. Link peeled his shirt off over his head and Rhett stared at him the entire time. This wasn’t the easy way he stripped at the club, the smooth movements and swaying hips. This was quick, easy, like he was ready  _ now  _ and didn’t want to wait much longer. He stepped over to the dresser, keeping Rhett on his knees, eyes on him the whole time as he reached behind himself, into the back of his waistband, pulled out a gun and set it there. “You brought a gun?” Rhett asked him.

“Easy, baby. I’m not planning to use it. Some guys, they get a little… dangerous. Not the fun kind. I like to have it around just to be safe.”

“But you set it there like that, what if they use it on you?” Rhett worried.

“Oh no, baby. I set it there in plain view because I trust you. Don’t ask me why. I couldn’t tell ya. I don’t do that with most guys. You planning to shoot me, Rhett?”

“No.”

“Then we’re good.”

“I don’t imagine most guys who are planning to shoot you will tell you before they do it,” Rhett told him.

“Did I say we’re good?” Link snapped at him a little bit, short and clearly ready to be done with the discussion.

“Yes. Sorry.”

“Okay, then.” Link unfastened his jeans, shoving them low but not taking them off, pulling his cock out and giving it a quick stroke. He was mostly hard already and Rhett wondered if he was actually turned on by him or if this was part of the job or if he’d had a little help from a prescription to take care of it. Maybe Link was one of those naturally horny guys. “Y’know it’s usually not this easy to get it up, baby. Typically I’m not hard until I’m fucking somebody’s face. But you, you’re easy. Just the sight of you’s doin’ it for me.”

That answered Rhett’s question.  _ If  _ Link was being honest.

“You’re crazy,” Rhett told him. He didn’t know what else to say to someone saying something like that. That was more than he could handle, too kind for what he thought he deserved.

“Crazy honest, baby. I’m telling you how I feel. You wanna dismiss that, it’s your prerogative, but damn, you look good.” Rhett didn’t know why, didn’t know if he was misguided, but he trusted Link, trusted the things he was saying. Maybe it was all just flattery, but maybe Rhett needed that, needed the boost of someone saying it, so he let it happen.

“You’re so beautiful,” Rhett told him. It was true. He’d thought it from the first time he’d seen Link. So beautiful, all dark features and sparkling eyes and beautiful, lithe body. He’d wanted to get a piece of him, to touch him, to bite him, to do  _ something _ , and the fact that any of that was an option now was a bit much for him to handle.

“You know you could’ve asked me to suck you off instead,” Link reminded him. “We don’t have to do it this way.”

“I want it,” Rhett told him. “I want you to take me, use me, whatever,” he said. “Please, Link. Please.”

“Since you asked so nicely,” Link said, cupping Rhett’s chin and using his thumb to tug Rhett’s mouth open. “I guess I better give you what you want, hadn’t I?”

“‘lease,” Rhett repeated, but this time it was a little garbled because Link held his mouth open. He couldn’t form the sounds right.

“Good, baby. So good.” He gave himself a couple of firm strokes. “You ever done this before?” he asked. It seemed to Rhett like he was trying to stall, to feel out how far he could go with Rhett and if fucking his face hard from the get-go would be too much for him.

“No, but I’m a quick learner,” Rhett said. He didn’t want Link to slow down, to keep from doing something because he was afraid Rhett couldn’t handle it.

“Oh, I’m sure you are,” Link said, patting his cheek as he released his hold on Rhett’s jaw. “But it’s not that often I get the pleasure of being someone’s first.”

“I’m sure it happens more than you think,” Rhett started, nerves taking him from unable to speak to rambling like he needed to stall suddenly, too. “I’m sure you have a lot of partners who weren’t up-front that it was their first. I could’ve lied to you and said it wasn’t mine and you’d be none-the-wiser.”

“You could have, but I bet dishonesty isn’t something that looks good on you,” Link said. That stung, especially when Link knew Rhett had a wife at home. Dishonesty was his life anymore, and it was a wonder to him that he was as honest with Link as he had been. Something about Link pulled the truth from him. “Anyway, since you’re basically a virgin, show me what you’re working with here. I mean, you say you’re a fast learner. Prove it.” He shook his hips and his cock swayed side-to-side a little, but when he stilled, Rhett was adamant that he’d show Link exactly what he could do.

He may not have ever done it before, but he had a good idea of what he wanted to do if he could, and as a result, he folded his hands behind his back, clasping them as he took Link with his mouth alone, using his height to his advantage to get the angle right. He wasted no time in taking Link fully, letting him hit the back of his throat before he pulled off, trying not to make his gag obvious. “Well, fuck,” Link muttered, watching as Rhett, hands still behind his back, teased the tip slowly, top lip holding Link steady while his tongue worked the underside before he took his length again. Invisible, imaginary restraints left Rhett showing Link how good he was with his tongue, and when his mouth was tired, when his throat needed a rest, he looked up with Link with soft, watering eyes, releasing his hands to stroke Link on his tongue. “Goddamn, Rhett. Are you sure this is your first time? Because that was impressive.”

“I swear it’s my first,” Rhett said. It hit him after that maybe Link was being facetious, mocking him for not being that great at all, but the awed look on Link’s face and the way he was leaking precome made it obvious Rhett was doing well.

“God, you’re a good little slut, then, Rhett. Keeping your mouth open to me like that. You give so, so good. But here’s the deal, baby. All that does is make me want to take that pretty little mouth of yours more. I want to fuck that gorgeous, bearded face of yours until you’re crying. I have this feeling you’d be such a beautiful mess.”

“Please,” Rhett said again. “I’ll do anything for you to do that to me.” He wanted it, needed it, craved the feeling of the loss of control that Link fucking his face would offer.

“Oh baby, you already did what you needed to do to earn it,” Link said, tangling a hand in the longer hair on the top of Rhett’s head, then gripping it tightly. “Now it’s my turn to show you a good time.”

“Please,” Rhett repeated.

“Oh, and one more thing… it’s going to be really, really hard for you to say red when you need me to stop. Two taps on my thigh, and I’ll let go. I promise.”

There were no other warnings, no further preamble as Link yanked Rhett forward while thrusting into his mouth. At first, Rhett hadn’t loosened his jaw enough, let it go slack, and it was hard not to choke, but then he went further, opening wider, letting Link push in again and again, harder and harder. He was getting dizzy from the movement and his scalp stung with the grip Link had on his hair, but he didn’t tap out yet. It wasn’t until Link tugged him forward, then wrapped his free hand around the back of Rhett’s head, holding him in place.

The promise Link had made to begin with made Rhett realize what a massive amount of trust he was putting into Link right then. Link didn’t have to stop. He didn’t have to let go. Rhett trusted him to, but he had no real way of knowing Link would. If Link wanted to, truly, nothing was stopping him from gagging Rhett with his cock until Rhett couldn’t breathe, until lightheadedness kicked in. That should have terrified him. Instead, it thrilled him. He didn’t let go, either, and Rhett tried to move his tongue against Link. Link was long, impressively so, and Rhett couldn’t swallow, couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think straight. Still, tapping out seemed worthless. At this point, with the way things had been going in his life, there were worse ways to go out than choking on a stripper’s dick. On the other hand, Link had joked he was a virgin, having done this for the first time, and if he was being honest, he didn’t want to choke on Link so long he never got to experience being fucked by him. He lifted his hand, prepared to tap out, to let Link know he needed air, but Link was one step ahead of him, letting go.

“Fuck, Rhett. Does anything phase you?” Rhett blinked up at him, trying to clear the water from his eyes.

“No,” Rhett tried to say, but his throat was sore, worn from what Link had done. Link ran his fingers gently through Rhett’s hair, holding Rhett’s chin and guiding Rhett to his feet.

“You’re so fucking good, baby. You’re so good,” Link told him. “You deserve something really nice for how good you’re taking care of my cock.” Guiding Rhett back to the bed, pushing him onto it with a force that left Rhett stunned, it was all a blur after everything that happened. “I want you.”

For some reason it didn’t feel like something Link was just saying. Sure, he was probably more keen on it because Rhett was paying him, but it also felt like he was into it. That, or he was a great actor, but Rhett was hoping it was that he wanted it, and Rhett leaned into the thought as Link kneeled at the edge of the bed, lifting Rhett’s legs onto his shoulders and tugging Rhett’s ass to the edge of the bed.

“Your ass is still so red, baby. Jesus. It hasn’t faded it all. That’s going to be real sore tomorrow.”

That was the kind of threat Rhett liked, the idea that as he sat at work tomorrow, he’d still feel the repercussions of his decisions tonight. “Good,” Rhett said, voice still cracking slightly. His voice was about to crack more, though, at the feeling of Link’s tongue pressing against his entrance. He’d skipped sucking Rhett off altogether, gone straight for eating his ass, using his hands to spread Rhett’s reddened, raw cheeks to give him the access he needed. He spat at Rhett’s skin, working his tongue into him, then leaning back to use his fingers instead. “God, you taste amazing, fuck. I could be down here all night,” Link groaned, burying his face into Rhett’s skin again, wiggling his face back and forth a little bit and really going for it. Rhett couldn’t resist a moan, couldn’t resist reaching between his legs to play with Link’s hair.

“Fuck, oh my god, that’s so good.” Rhett had never experienced this, had never felt this. Perhaps that was something Link suspected, the reason he’d skipped the blowjob in favor of getting up close and personal with Rhett’s entrance, opening and ready for him. Rhett had experienced blowjobs before, even if they were less-than-enthusiastic, something to celebrate a birthday, and even if he’d failed to reciprocate as often as he should have, failed to take care of her needs. But he’d never had this, the gift Link was giving him, and it made him realize how much he was missing out on.

“Tell me you like it,” Link said, pressing his thumb against Rhett’s opening, prodding at him for a response.

“I love it so much,” Rhett groaned.

“Tell me you want me down here all night. Tell me to eat your ass like I mean it, Rhett. Tell me something. Give me something to work with.”

“Fuck, Link, keep eating my ass. It feels so good,” Rhett mumbled.

“I’m not convinced,” Link said, standing to his feet and gripping Rhett’s face tightly with his hands. “If you can’t say it like you mean it, you can’t have it.”

The reality was, Rhett wanted it, but he also needed Link inside of him before he came, needed to feel that more than anything. “I want it,” Rhett assured him. “I want you to tonguefuck me until I scream.”

“Someone has a dirty mouth,” Link told him.

“But I want you to fuck me more. I need you inside of me,” Rhett requested. “Please. Please.”

“And now we’ve grown up enough to ask for what we want. What progress, Rhett. I’m proud of you. Scared little baby in a parking lot that doesn’t know what he wants, now begging me to fuck him silly in bed? That’s the fire I’m looking for.” Link leaned in close to him, still holding his face, and for a moment Rhett wondered if he was going to give up his own rule, kiss Rhett. They were close enough that he could, but Rhett wasn’t about to break it for him. “You’re going to look so hot when you’re whining from how hard I fuck you. You know that? You’re going to be such a wreck when I’m done with you. You’ll be begging me to put you back together because I am going to shatter your world.”

“Please,” Rhett begging again. “Fucking ruin me, Link. Destroy my life, even, I don’t care.” Rhett would have given anything for Link’s cock.

“Destroy your life? Oh, baby. All I plan to do is destroy this hole of yours, make sure you remember me when you’re sitting at your desk tomorrow. I don’t want to ruin your life.” The wicked grin on Link’s face left the word  _ yet  _ reverberating in Rhett’s mind.

“You want me to fuck you?” Link asked, as if he didn’t know.

“Destroy my hole,” Rhett said, repeating Link’s words back to him.

“Oh, I plan to.” Link moved him again, pushing his arm against Rhett’s back to keep him bent over the bed. Link’s fingers teased along his skin and Rhett could hear him open a bottle, unwrap something. In hindsight, he realized he should’ve asked specifically for them to be safe, but Link was one step ahead of him anyway, making sure they were, so it didn’t really matter. He cursed himself for being so reckless that he didn’t think to be the one to insist on it, to make sure they had a condom. His risky behavior lately was getting out of control and that was only one sign that brought it all to the forefront of his mind.

But he couldn’t focus on that now, not when Link had taken care of it anyway. Instead, his focus was on Link pressed against him. Link, who still had his jeans bunched up around his legs, pulled down just enough to give Rhett the access he needed. Link who had already fucked his throat so thoroughly he wasn’t sure if he’d be able to talk the next day at the presentation he was supposed to lead. That Link. And feeling him press against his skin, against the entrance, made Rhett instantly both nervous and aroused, needy and terrified.

Link was slow and gentle until he wasn’t, letting Rhett get used to it, then taking his lack of protest as an answer that he could fuck him faster. He’d given them plenty of lube to work with — this wasn’t his first rodeo and it was obvious — and it felt amazing. It was the way he’d lean down, not quite tall enough to reach Rhett’s ear, but close enough, speaking softly with his encouragements. “God, you take that cock so good,” and “you sure you’ve never done this before?” and “I bet I can fuck you harder than this, too. So hard you can’t hardly walk tomorrow. I want you practically falling over after.” Rhett loved every word of it, everything Link said, and after a while, he lamented the thought that he couldn’t see Link entering him, see the penetration as he felt it.

“Fuck, that’s so good. Wanna- wanna see it,” Rhett finally choked out.

“You want to see it?”

“Yeah,” Rhett groaned. “Yeah, oh… yeah…” He was having trouble making it clear that he wanted that and these weren’t general sounds of pleasure, but Link got it, pulling out of him and grabbing Rhett’s leg, tugging him and telling him to turn over. From there, he lined up slowly, and Rhett tugged a pillow down, propping himself up so he could watch this time.

It was fascinating, watching Link disappear inside of him as the feeling of fullness overwhelmed him, and as much as he wanted to watch, he couldn’t help but throw his head back in pleasure. “Oh my god,” he groaned.

“Good, right? You have no idea what you’ve been missing out on, baby,” Link told him. Rhett wasn’t really sure if Link meant this — penetrative sex like this, getting his ass fucked hard — or if Link was referring to himself, that Rhett hadn’t taken time to book him sooner. Rhett was willing to bet it was both, and as he hooked a leg around Link, trying to draw him deeper, Link got the hint. “You want me to fuck you harder? You want me to tear up this ass of yours?”

“Yes, oh my god, fuck me so hard, Link. Fuck me hard, please, fuck …” He didn’t have much opportunity to say anything else because Link didn’t hesitate to pound him senseless, to use his shoulder for leverage and drive himself deep into Rhett again and again.

Rhett didn’t have to keep his hand on himself. Hell, at the pace Link was going, he didn’t even really have the coordination to do so. Instead, he let Link take the wheel, pounding into him until he could hardly breathe, think, move. Link was hitting the right spot again and again and again, and Rhett knew that he wasn’t far off. Five more thrusts, one more thrust, and he was coming all over his stomach, his chest, with it running down his skin.

“Well, somebody liked that,” Link smiled, pulling out of Rhett. “Hands-free, too. You’re making me feel like a god right now, baby.” He bent down, close to Rhett, leaning forward to run his tongue against Rhett’s skin along the part where the cum was the thickest. “God, you taste amazing. Come find out how I taste, baby. I’m close, too.”

Rhett was half-delirious but he was obedient, sliding off the bed and onto the ground, not so much on his knees as he was rag-doll like at the end of the bed on the floor, post-bliss and open-mouthed, letting Link use his face. Link played with his hair, leaned his head back against the bed, running his fingers through his hair as he stroked himself against Rhett’s lips, open mouth, then did exactly what he promised he’d do. “I’m going to cum all over that beard, baby. I’m going to make you so messy.” He spilled all over Rhett’s beard, over his lips and tongue, coating him as he grunted and threw his head back, guttural, animal sounds escaping his lips.

As he composed himself, he played with Rhett’s beard again, then urged him upward. “God, Rhett. You’re so good. You’re the kind of guy I’d break my own rules for.” If Rhett didn’t know any better, he’d think Link meant the kiss thing, but Link had said rules, rules plural, and Rhett knew that he was referring to something else, something unspoken. It was a little chilling. He patted Rhett’s cheek, swiping at his cum left behind. “You might want to go wash that.”

 

They had more time, all night if Rhett wanted, but after a quick shower, he was too sex-spent to take advantage of the fact that he’d paid for more. Instead, when he got back and found Link sitting on the bed in his boxer-briefs, flipping through channels, he decided he wanted something more intimate than sex. If Link was willing, at least. “Hey, handsome,” Link said, looking Rhett up-and-down. He was only wrapped in a towel, still a little wet from the shower. “You back for a round two or you have something else in mind now?”

“I was thinking—” Rhett said, sitting down on the edge of the bed.

“Oh no,” Link cut him off. “I can see the smoke from here.”

“Funny,” Rhett said, but he had to admit he did smile at it. “I meant I was thinkin’ instead of round two, maybe we could get some sleep?”

“Sleep’s fine with me. Are you wanting me to go? Or do you want me to stay.”

“Um. Stay. If that’s okay with you. That was the other part of the thought. Is it, um… if it’s against the rules, tell me. I won’t be upset. But… do you think you could hold me?”

“Get that towel off, get your ass under the covers, and find out, baby,” Link smiled.


	7. Salad Dressing

Waking up in Link’s arms felt damn near overwhelming for Rhett. He couldn’t remember the last time someone had held him — genuinely held him, with their arms around him, fingers trailing along his skin before he fell asleep — and he was almost startled by the feeling of it, by the intensity of a simple touch. If it weren’t for his ringing alarm, he could’ve easily stayed there another few hours, but then he’d probably have to pay for that anyway. He sat up in the bed, rubbing at his eyes and feeling how sore he was all over. It wasn’t just his ass, which still had raised patches from the thorough spanking, and it wasn’t just the feeling of having been roughly fucked. It was his entire body feeling like it was on fire, electric, a full-body workout wrapped up in a few hours in bed, and that was the kind of thing he was after anyway.

“Morning,” Link grumbled lazily, throwing one of his arms over his eyes. “Have to go to work?”

“Yeah. Big presentation today,” Rhett said.

“Darn. You can’t call in sick?” Link asked.

“Don’t think so. Why, do I have a reason to?” Rhett asked.

“Guess not,” Link said. He seemed disappointed, but then sat up, wrapping his arms around Rhett’s chest, kissing his back softly. For someone who was so surely against being kissed, he seemed to enjoy planting them along Rhett’s skin, gentle as if he’d barely been there.

It left Rhett longing, wishing he’d set the alarm early enough that he could have pinned Link to the bed, tossed him around a little bit, fucked him into the mattress, but he hadn’t. As it stood, he’d only gotten about an hour and a half of sleep. He wasn’t exactly well-rested.

Link’s eyes were on him the whole time Rhett got dressed, even as Link pulled his own jeans on, tucked his gun into the back of his jeans, turned his neck from side-to-side to pop it … his eyes never left Rhett, never peeled themselves away from the skin Rhett was trying to cover up, tugging on pants and buttoning his shirt. He didn’t have time to go home and change, so he’d have to hope that no one noticed, would have to say fuck it and move on.

“I still owe you,” Rhett remembered, pulling out his wallet.

“I said $200 for you, right?” Link asked, narrowing his eyes.

“$300,” Rhett reminded him.

“Damn, you really are honest to a fault, aren’t you?” The statement almost pained Rhett to hear considering how many lies he was currently tangled in, but it was true. When he wanted to be, he could be incredibly honest.

“Here. It’s $400. I don’t really know if I’m supposed to tip for this kinda thing but,” Rhett said, ending his sentence halfway through, scratching his neck. “Do you need a ride somewhere?”

“Nope. I can get where I’m going from here,” Link told him. He took the money from Rhett’s hand, then reached in his back pocket and pulled out a piece of paper. It wasn’t a card. It was scrawled on the pad of paper from the hotel, the name “Link” and a number. “In case you need me,” Link told him.

“Thanks,” Rhett said, tucking it into his wallet where the money had been. It was funny, he thought, because in a way it felt like he’d just paid $400 for a piece of paper. He couldn’t tuck an experience in his wallet. But then he put his wallet back into his pocket, let it graze all the places Link had been the night before, and his raw ass spoke for him. He’d paid the money for so much more than that paper.

“I’ll see you around, Rhett,” Link said, standing on his tip-toes and giving Rhett a kiss on the cheek. Then, he opened the door and stepped outside. By the time Rhett made it out there, Link was nowhere in sight.

 

Rhett was thoroughly unprepared for the meeting that day, but what else was new. He tapped his pencil at his desk, counting the minutes until time.

“Knock, knock.” Josh’s knock was both literal and verbal, with him saying the words as he tapped the frame of Rhett’s door.

“Josh,” Rhett said, turning around to see him.

“Is that the same tie you had on yesterday? Same shirt?” Josh raised an eyebrow like he’d caught Rhett in a lie. In truth, he had.

“I must have gotten them mixed up this morning,” Rhett said, standing. “Time?”

“Almost. Here. Let’s swap ties and then no one will know,” Josh offered, taking his own tie off. Rhett shrugged and did the same, handing his tie to Josh, who slipped it on over his head and straightened it.

“Thanks, man,” Rhett said.

“Let me tie this one for you,” Josh told him, looping the tie over his head and slipping it around his neck. He was careful tying it, eyes flashing up to Rhett’s instead of watching what he was doing, then back down to focus on the knot. “This matches your eyes.”

“I really appreciate you loaning it to me,” Rhett smiled. It was nice of him to help him out, he figured, and he truly did appreciate the help. “Oof, that’s, uh… a little tight,” he said, with Josh pulling it to a point he was having trouble breathing.

“Ooh, sorry. Let me fix it,” Josh said, wiggling it looser. “Better?”

“Better.”

Josh’s hands lingered on the tie, holding onto it, which meant Rhett didn’t have the ability to step back quite yet. He was in Josh’s space and the tension felt palpable, but Rhett squashed it down. He had to be imagining it — after his encounter with Link, he was still reading everything as sexual tension — because Josh was just being nice.

“Do you like spaghetti, Rhett?”

“Yeah, absolutely. Who doesn’t?”

“My girlfriend Angie’s making spaghetti Thursday. You should come over. Bring your wife.” He was staring into Rhett’s eyes, still holding the tie. Rhett hated to make a commitment for Thursday, hoping he’d get to see Link instead, but it didn’t seem he had a choice. Josh was so kind to him, and turning him down seemed really insulting. Besides, Jess had been bugging him lately about how he was keeping things from her. It seemed like a good opportunity to make everyone happy.

“Thursday?”

“I’ll get you an address. 6:30.”

“I’ll be there,” Rhett told him.

“Great,” Josh answered, eyes still locked on Rhett’s as he released the tie from his grasp.

 

Rhett could tell Jessica was angry from the way she clenched her jaw, the way she stayed tucked into her seat, looking out the window away from him. “I don’t know why the hell you think you can drag me out to this so I can be forced to put on some sort of happy face like things are normal here,” she said.

“I’m not asking you to fake being happy. I’m asking you to not be an absolute bitch to my coworker and his girlfriend. Go. Talk. Maybe drink. Not too much because we know how you get when you do.” Rhett knew it was a low blow when he said it.

“You really want to go there, right? Act like we don’t both have our vices to get through this marriage. What, are you fucking his girlfriend? Is that why she invited us over?”

“I’m not fucking anybody, Jess, but obviously that’s where your mind would go considering you’re using that book club like a place to pick up depressed, desperate husbands who want a break from their wives. ‘Oh, Tom is driving me crazy,’ shouldn’t be an invitation to call him for a quick fuck.”

“I’m not the one picking people up at work,” Jess sulked. “You know, that’ll be really fun when we split. ‘Dear Reverend McLaughlin, things didn’t work out between your son and I because he can’t keep it in his pants around his coworkers or their wives.’”

“Fuck you.” Rhett was fed up with the way she talked to him, fed up with the way she threw his mistakes in his face. Not like he hadn’t done the same thing to her. Things were so fucked between them but all he needed was one night, one time to not look like an idiot in front of Josh. They barely knew each other, despite working on the same team, but Rhett needed an ally at work. Half the team was a solid decade, two decades older than him and were slow to turn around to fresh ideas, but having Josh, who was a little younger than him, would help substantially. “Jess, I’m sorry. Okay? I’m fucking sorry. Can we just get through it?”

“One night. And then I’m done. I’m so done with this and done with you.”

 

The tension between them was palpable as Angie served drinks to them, glasses of wine that Jessica downed within seconds. Rhett was tempted to nudge her, to tell her to slow down, but she had the sense to stop after two, to pass on a third, even with Angie’s offer to pour some more. Josh, though, was sitting in a chair in the corner of the living room, seemingly distracted. “I’m going to go make some salad,” he finally said, shoving himself out of his chair. “Rhett, come help? The girls can keep talking then.” They were lost in conversation and for that, Rhett was thankful.

“Sure,” Rhett said. “I’m not much of a cook but I’d be happy to—”

“Oh, of course you’ll help him,” Jessica muttered.

“Oh my god, I know. Do you think Josh has ever offered to make a salad before? No, he’s literally a trained chef and he’ll get home and ask me where dinner is. Are you kidding me?” Angie snarked, but she followed it with a laugh. She was clearly happier with Josh than Jess was with Rhett. But Josh was already in the kitchen, and when the door swung closed behind him, he directed Rhett to the corner of the counter.

“You have much experience with a knife?” Josh asked, pulling one from a knife block and passing it, handle first to Rhett.

“I can manage,” Rhett said, waiting for instructions.

“Perfect. I could use a little help chopping these carrots. Here, just small pieces. It’s for the salad,” Josh reminded him.

“Sure,” Rhett said, turning toward the cutting board, carrots already on it. “Quarter of an inch or so?” he asked.

“Perfect,” Josh said. He stood behind Rhett, pushing him against the counter, body against Rhett’s back to look around him. “God, yeah, that’s just how I need it.” His voice was low and gravelly, and he slid his arm around Rhett, putting his hand on his chest.

“What are you doing?” Rhett asked him, trying to continue focusing.

“What do you mean?” Josh asked.

“I mean this. What’s this, the way you’re standing like this, the tie, everything.”

“Don’t you feel it, Rhett? We’ve got a connection and you act like you don’t even feel it.” He ran his hand along Rhett’s chest, sliding his hand down Rhett’s body. “Listen,” Josh said, taking the knife from Rhett’s hand and setting it on the counter, turning Rhett around with his hands. “Feel this.” He took Rhett’s hand, pressing it to his crotch, squeezing Rhett’s fingers around him, already hard.

“Josh, my wife is—”

“My girlfriend is right there with her. It’s hot, isn’t it? Knowing they could catch us like this. I wonder if they know how connected I feel to you, how much you turn me on. God, I was thinking of you this morning in this shower,” Josh told him. “I couldn’t get how good you look out of my head. I couldn’t stop thinking about how I wish I could take your tie off, take your shirt off, bend you over your desk at work…”

“Josh, I can’t… I—”

“You really going to tell me you don’t feel this? Tell me, Rhett. Tell me that this means nothing to you, that you’re not into me like I’m into you. Say the word and I will take a step back and go work on the dressing and I’ll never mention this again. We’ll pretend it never happened. Tell me, Rhett. Tell me you don’t want me.”

“I can’t—” Rhett started again, but Josh had his arms around Rhett, had him pulled close, was inches away.

“All you have to say is that you don’t want me,” Josh told him. “Tell me you don’t want me.”

Rhett couldn’t do it, couldn’t say it, couldn’t anything. Instead, he leaned in, kissing Josh, pressing his lips to his and waiting as Josh parted them, sliding a tongue into Rhett’s mouth as he gripped his ass. It was incredible, kissing someone with passion. There’d never been real passion with Jessica, and Link wouldn’t let him kiss him. But Josh, Josh let him kiss the way he wanted to kiss, the way he wanted to be kissed, and he took full advantage. He prayed Jess would stay in the other room, would let him have this. It was funny, the way she’d assumed he was hooking up with Angie. He wondered if that’s why she was still in there, if she was keeping a watchful eye so Rhett couldn’t get close to her. In the meantime, it was clear she’d never suspected he might be in the kitchen doing  _ this.  _ Not with Josh, not with a man. His past indiscretion, the affair at work, that had been with a woman. Somehow, Jessica probably believe it was an issue with her and not an issue with women in general.

“Fuck, Rhett,” Josh finally said, pulling back and biting Rhett’s lip as he did, tugging him a little. “I knew you wanted me. I knew you wouldn’t say no. Thank god. I don’t know what I would have done if you’d rejected me.”

“I’m not rejecting you,” Rhett finally muttered. “I should… I should cut the carrots probably. Salad won’t make itself.” He was nervous again, just like with Link, unsure of what to say or how to handle things.

“That’s perfect. You take care of the carrots while I take care of you,” Josh said, crowding Rhett against the counter again, reaching his hand down Rhett’s pants and nudging them down just enough.

“What if one of them comes in here?” Rhett asked. There was no explanation for this.

“We’ll figure it out. They won’t come in here, baby. They won’t. But god, isn’t it so good thinkin’ about it? Thinkin’ about how if they walked in, caught us like this… god, that would probably ruin everything, but it’s hot, the fact that they’re just a door away. One of them comes in here, sees us… damn.” His hand was still doing what it was doing. Rhett hadn’t stopped him, and he was stroking Rhett now, really getting him worked up. He’d nudged his pants down more, and Rhett was wondering if Josh was going to keep doing this or if he was going to take him right here over the counter. “God, what I wouldn’t give to bend you over this counter,” Josh growled, as if he was reading Rhett’s mind. “But we don’t have time for that, do we? Just have time for me to make you cum real quick. God, that’s going to be so hot, baby. I’m going to get you off right here when they’re right there.”

“We shouldn't be doing this.” Rhett's protest was weak and transparent, especially as he thrust forward into Josh's hand more as he said it. “We should stop.”

“Do you want me to stop, Rhett? Or do you want me to make you feel good in ways she can't? I see how she looks at you, cutie. Barely, and with contempt when she does. She doesn't see you like I see you.”

“You don't know--”

“Rhett, baby. I've known since you kept showing up without a ring. I've known every time you get antsy when I mention her. And I knew when you showed up at work last week in that shirt from the night before. That's why I asked you to bring her. I had to confirm what I already knew… that I'm not taking a married man from someone who deserves him. I'm taking him from someone who doesn't give a shit about him, showing him how much he deserves to feel good. You deserve this, baby. You deserve a man who can show you what it feels like to have someone care for you. And god, Rhett. I'm going to take really good care of you, aren't I?” Josh’s hand didn’t stop the entire time he spoke, didn't move off of Rhett's cock as he told him how good he'd be to him. Instead he kept stroking, kept confirming everything he was saying with a movement.

Jessica didn't care about him, not really. He knew that before he'd ever gone to Link. But he had never imagined he wouldn't have to pay for a man's touch, to have his desires met. Josh was doing it freely. “God, you're so thick, Rhett. Nice and girthy. I can't wait to get more time with you and show you what I can do with my mouth. Too bad we have to hurry tonight. Can't wait to take my time with your cock. Can you picture it, Rhett? Imagine me giving you what you want? I've seen how you watch me in meetings, seen the way your jaw tenses when I'm on fire in a presentation. I know how you feel, baby. I know what you've been wanting, just like I've been wanting you.”

Rhett was still trying to cut the carrots if only for something to focus on so he could keep quiet. He was biting the inside of his cheek until it bled to keep from choking out gasps and moans in Josh's kitchen. And Josh kept going, kept stroking, kept talking.”

“Can't wait to get you in bed, too, take all these clothes off, take my time. Fuck you like you deserve to be fucked. God, Rhett, this is so much fun. You're doing such a good job with these carrots. If this wasn't already such a risk I'd be stuffing one inside of you. Hell, maybe I'd get my own cucumber in you at this point. But we can't risk it, can we? Gotta stick with what we're doing.” He nuzzled at Rhett's neck, kissing him gently. Rhett's breath was hitching as he got closer.

“You're gonna make me cum,” Rhett told him. “You have to stop or I'll--”

“Do it, Rhett. Cum,” Josh said, guiding Rhett's cock, stroking him hard and fast until Rhett was streaking the cutting board, the carrots he had so carefully cut, Rhett gripping the countertop with knees weak and head spinning.

“Fuck,” Rhett groaned. “I'm sorry. I fucked up the carrots. I'm so sorry.”

“Fucked them up? No, baby. You made them better.” Josh let go of Rhett, let him tuck himself back in. And then he plucked a carrot from the cutting board, placing it on his tongue and licking the cum from his fingers. “That's so perfect. Nothing beats carrots with a little dressing.” Rhett struggled to catch his breath, watching as Josh picked up the cutting board, sweeping cum-coated carrots into the bowl of lettuce and tomatoes. He drizzled a creamy white dressing over it, stirring. At a glance, Rhett wouldn't have known the cum was in there at all. He only knew because he'd been there, because it was his own.

“Let's eat,” he said, tugging Rhett in for one more kiss before returning to the girls in the living room. They were still chatting, laughing about something.

“Sorry,” Josh said. “Rhett had trouble with those carrots. He's a little slow, that one.” Rhett might have been offended if Josh hadn't been covering for him, for their indiscretion.

“Oops,” Rhett shrugged and tried to brush it off. His wife glared, but it wasn’t like she suspected anything. Knowing Jess, she was just mad he’d managed to take too long cutting carrots. As far as she was concerned, he was a fuck up at everything, so why not believe he fucked up chopping something, too?

He wasn’t focused on that, though. All he could think about were the teasing glances Josh was shooting his way, the way Josh heaped salad onto his plate and then passed the bowl to Jess, then Angie. Josh bit his lip, staring at Rhett before taking his first bite of the salad, licking the dressing that lingered on his fork and keeping his eyes on Rhett’s the whole time. It was a struggle for Rhett not to get hard all over again, thinking about exactly what Josh was doing, what he was eating, what he’d done while Rhett was making that salad with him.

“This is a great dressing,” Jess asked, tossing a glance toward Josh. “What kind is it?”

“Special recipe. I use locally sourced ingredients to make it myself. Only the freshest for you and Rhett,” he smiled, giving her a quick wink.

“It’s incredible. I can’t quite place what kind it is, but I love it.”

 

Rhett couldn't get out of his own head that night, lying in bed. Jess, in some misguided attempt to make sure he didn't have a thing for Angie, had tried to initiate. He’d done the things he felt he had to, got between her legs and tried to draw a satisfying conclusion, tried not to show her how bored and uninterested he was in what he was doing.

Going down on her, he couldn't check out, pretend he was doing something else. He couldn't imagine he was with Link or Josh or any number of guys he pictured through the screen of his phone. No, he had to live it, to realize it was her and take in the tastes and smells. It wasn't horrible, but she didn't offer what he wanted… that was the real problem with the situation.

Now, he was using the ceiling as a palette cleanser, like if he stared long enough he could manifest a bedroom companion he found desirable. His phone glowed from the bedside table, lit with a message notification.

 

**_919(2:14am): I'm really sorry to do this because it's probably weird, but I was worried and wanted to make sure you're okay. After everything that happened last week, and then you not showing up this week, I wasn't sure. If I fucked up, please tell me. I swear I'll leave you alone after this, but it made me nervous that it's Thursday and you didn't show. This is Link btw. Also sorry for the long text message so late._ **

**_Rhett(2:16am): How did you get my number?_ **

**_919(2:20am): Please don't be mad._ **

**_919(2:21am): I saw your phone on the bedside table and I sent myself your number. It was wrong. I get that. Idk why I did it. I swear I didn't look through anything. I got your number and dipped out._ **

**_Rhett(2:22am): Mental note: password protect my phone before hooking up with someone._ **

**_Rhett(2:23am): I'm okay. Had a work thing come up. Maybe I'll see you next week?_ **

**_919(2:24am): Are you mad at me?_ **

**_Rhett(2:27am): Can’t say it’s not weird._ **

**_919(2:28am): Do you want me to delete the number?_ **

**_Rhett(2:29am): I’m thinking._ **

**_Rhett(2:32am): I want you to make it worth it. Now that I know you have it, use it, I guess. I’m password protecting my phone, now that I’ve learned my lesson. Thanks for that. No one will see but me. And I’m saving your number, don’t worry._ **

**_Link(2:33am): Use it how?_ **

**_Link(2:36am): Use it like this? [IMG file}_ **

**_Rhett(2:40am): Fuck, Link._ **

**_Link(2:47am): Meet me somewhere._ **


	8. Morning After

Rhett couldn’t believe he was doing this, turning the steering wheel and looking for the street Link had sent him. He should have been in bed, should have been asleep, hell, should have been fucking Jess — he couldn’t exactly call it making love — but instead he was in his car, looking. He needed Link, craved him, and he wondered what was wrong with him, how sex-addicted and lust-fueled he was at the moment to need another hookup only hours after Josh had gotten him off. It didn’t matter. His skin itched and his mind raced in a way that told him nothing would get it out of his head if he didn’t do what Link asked. It didn’t matter that he had work in the morning, didn’t matter that he hadn’t fallen asleep yet. He needed the fix of being with Link, the idea of having that desire for touch that had gone so unfulfilled with Jess.

Rhett slowed the car, not even fully stopping it before opening the door. Then, he stopped enough to let Link in. “Get in,” he said, then pulled off as Link fumbled with the seatbelt.

“You’re in a hurry,” Link said.

“I shouldn’t be here at all,” Rhett reminded him.

“I’m glad you came anyway.”

“We’ll see if it was the right idea,” Rhett said, and he wasn’t sure why he was being so snarky. He didn’t exactly have reason to be.

It didn’t take him long to find a parking lot, a dark place, a quiet place. There was no hotel tonight, no time and no need. “Here?” Rhett asked.

“Depends on what you want,” Link told him simply.

“Whatever $50 gets me.” It was simple, no-frills, a clear offer.  _ I’ll give you 50 and you’ll give me whatever time you deem fair, and then I’ll drop you here and drive away and we’ll pretend this didn’t happen for the next week. _

“Backseat,” Link demanded, finding himself crawling over the center console to get back there. Rhett wasn’t quite so limber, too tall and too long. He also wasn’t sure what sort of handjob necessitated the backseat, but that was irrelevant. Anything Link said, he’d do.

“What’s the plan, Link?” Rhett asked. His voice was commanding and in control in a way it hadn’t been with Link ever before. Maybe it was adrenaline or maybe he was just tired, but he wanted to know exactly what he was getting himself for what he was offering.

“Need you, Rhett. In any way I can get you in this backseat.”

“You said 30 minutes?” Rhett asked him, trying to recall from their last time together.

“Give or take,” Link mumbled as he tugged Rhett’s pants down. This interaction was a far cry from their first, all the formality and rules stripped, all of Rhett’s tension and nerves about his first time well worn after last week, and then after Josh. Instead, he followed Link’s lead without hesitation, lifting his ass off the seat to give Link room for the pants, then sitting there, spreading his legs a little as Link curled in the floor of the car, burying his head in Rhett’s lap. He was aggressive with his dick-sucking, taking Rhett deep and letting Rhett rest his arm on his back, keeping him there.

“Fuck, Link, that’s so good,” Rhett gasped, giving Link the room to bob his head but not a lot. He was dying for more, for Link to take him deep and to swallow around him, for Link to stroke him with those soft, plush lips of his, for Link to let Rhett thrust into his mouth … but for now, he let Link work, let him do what he needed, and it took little time at all for Link to move from having the control to giving it all to Rhett, to letting Rhett thrust and move and hold him down more. “God, you’re good at that,” Rhett said.

“Have to be,” Link gasped softly between movements, letting his lips rest on the tip of Rhett’s cock as he spoke, his hand stroking Rhett. This felt practiced, felt intense. It was a far cry from the spur of the moment jerk in Josh’s kitchen, instead a skilled flow from Link. For a moment, Rhett considered the fact that Link was a very skilled businessman indeed. Somehow, Rhett had rewarded a violation of privacy, let Link steal his number and reach out under the guise of concern so he could make a few bucks in the backseat of Rhett’s car on the one night Rhett wasn’t there and it couldn’t lead there naturally. He was smart, Link was, and Rhett felt a little duped.

He wasn’t bothered by it enough to tell Link to stop, to call him on it, kick him out of the car and tell him this was payback for prying into Rhett’s phone. No, he let it kept happening and when Link was clawing up his body, telling him “Rhett, I need you to fuck me,” Rhett was willing.

“You want—”

“I know it’s a tight space but I think if I get in your lap, I can make it work. I’ll ride you right here.”

“We have time?” Rhett asked, then wondered why he wasn’t simply taking anything Link was willing to give.

“As much time as you have. You’re the one who wanted to be quick,” Link reminded him.

“Fuck, okay, then.” Rhett didn’t have to say anything more to Link, who seemed to have it all figured out, lube and condom in hand. “You don’t want to fuck me?” Rhett asked, thinking back to the first time they’d fucked, thinking back to how good Link had filled him and how amazing it felt. He was fine with whatever, down for anything Link suggested, but he wanted to be sure.

“God, Rhett, I want everything with you. But this is a tiny-ass backseat and I need you in me right now.” That was enough for Rhett, enough as Link rolled the condom on him and straddled him in the seat, guiding Rhett into him.

As Link rode him, sinking onto his cock and then pulling himself back up, only to impale himself again, he was playing with the hair on the back of Rhett’s neck. If it weren’t for the rules, Rhett would have been inclined to kiss him — their mouths were that close — but instead, he buried his face against Link’s shoulder, drowning in the pleasure of it. “Fuck, that feels so good,” Rhett groaned, and Link placed his hands on Rhett’s chest, pushing him back against the seat as Rhett drove himself up into him.

“Ever since the first lapdance I gave you, I’ve been wondering what it might be like to sit on your lap just like this, to ride your dick, to feel you in me. I’ve had it in my head for ages now, Rhett, how good this was going to feel.”

“Fuck,” Rhett grunted. “You really wanted this?”

“More than anything, baby. So much. Every time you’re in the club, this is all I can think about.”

Rhett didn’t even mind that Link was clearly trying to get him for more money, more time, another fuck. He knew he’d do it if only for the things Link said to him, the way Link flattered him like that.

“Fuck me harder, baby. Come on, I need it. You can do it harder,” Link groaned in his ear, breath shaky from the pace of such a quick hookup. “Oh my god, Rhett, just like that, yeah,” he whispered, breathing and moaning as he thrust into him.

“Link, oh,” Rhett cried out, pumping into Link, sad he couldn't make himself last longer but knowing he had taken more time than he should have anyway. Rhett longed to make Link cum, too, to get him to finish just as hard as he had, but the tight space of the car allowed for so little. Rhett did his best, laying Link beside him in the backseat and curling up to suck his cock. There wasn't room, not really, for them to get comfortable, but they tried, with Rhett using his tongue on Link far more enthusiastically than he'd done in his marital bed hours before.

“You’re so good to me, baby. That’s so good,” Link moaned, playing with Rhett’s hair and leaning his head back against the seat. “Fuck, baby. You want to make me cum all over myself? That’s what you’re gonna do if you aren’t careful. I love that so much.” He knew how to praise Rhett, how to make him feel good about what he was doing. “Looks so good when you’ve got your mouth around my cock like that. God, you take it good.” If Link wasn’t careful about his words, he’d have Rhett hard again, but it didn’t matter. Link was clearly close and arching. “Fuck, I’m gonna cum. You want me to? You want me to fill up that throat of yours?”

Rhett didn’t stop sucking, didn’t stop licking, kept his mouth on Link for the promised reason: to be filled up like that. To prove to Link he could. It was a lot to take but it was good, exactly what he’d been wanting and needing from Link all along. He loved the way Link was with him, the way he felt, the way he looked. If only Link felt the same, he thought.

As he moved back into the seat beside Link, laid against him, he tested the limits of Link’s flattery. “You’re good, you know?”

“Good at what?” Link asked.

“Good at making me feel like I’m the only guy in the room,” Rhett told him. “At the club, you know?”

“Don’t you get it, Rhett?” Link asked him, running his fingers along the hair at the nape of Rhett’s neck. “When you’re there, you may as well be. Do you see me steal glances when I have to give other guys dances? Or feel me looking at you when I’m on stage? On Thursdays, you’re all I can think about, and on the other nights, it’s just a countdown until then. So yeah, Rhett. Maybe I make you feel like you’re the only guy in the room. Maybe it’s because that’s exactly how you’re supposed to feel. It’s how you deserve to feel.”

“Sounds like good marketing,” Rhett snorted. “You probably tell everybody that.”

“Rhett,” Link said, pulling back and putting a hand on Rhett’s cheek, forcing Rhett to look him in the eye, “listen to me. When you’re not there, it breaks something in me. Why’d you think I’ve been doing such crazy things? You were late last week and I freaked out a little. That’s why I did something as stupid as … as getting your number from your phone. That was such a shitty, sketchy thing to do but I panicked and I missed you and I had the chance so I did. I swore I was never, ever going to use it, that I’d been stupid enough. And what did I do this week? You didn’t show and I got scared and I texted you. God, Rhett, how do you not see it? I lose my mind over you.”

“Fuck, Link,” Rhett said, settling back in the seat and leaning against Link how he’d been before. He didn’t know what else to say. He should have been getting home instead of talking to a stripper, a prostitute like they had some sort of relationship outside of business. Instead, he was lying there with Link wishing it was more than it was, then kicking himself because he was married, and if he didn’t have that with his wife, he still had Josh interested. He couldn’t shake it, though, the feeling that Link mattered. Still, even with Link’s emotional urgings, the way he’d lamented his own desperate acts as a reaction to his lust for Rhett, Rhett couldn’t help but think it was mostly business.

That didn’t matter, though. The connection he felt was undeniable and it was hard to tell Link goodnight and drive home. Rhett could feel himself cracking.

* * *

Rhett didn’t realize he’d fallen asleep in the backseat of his car, in his pajama pants and a tee shirt no less, until he heard a knock at the car window. Link jumped awake, cursing under his breath. “Shit, shit, shit, if they find out what I am, they’re going to arrest us both, shit. Fuck!”

“It’s okay, baby,” Rhett soothed. “I’ll take care of it.” He rolled down the window. “Officer.”

“Is there a reason you’ve been parked in this lot for several hours? We got a complaint.”

“I’m so sorry. I didn’t realize it was a private lot. I was having a rough night and needed to talk to someone, so I parked here for a while.”

“And he’s—”

“My boyfriend. Of course. I, uh. I’m sorry, officer. We’ll leave and I’ll know not to come here again, but I promise there’s nothing sketchy going on here. We were talking and I dozed off. I’m sorry.”

“Okay. Letting you off with a warning this time,” the officer said. “I think they mostly want you out of here anyway.” He shrugged. As Rhett thanked him and drove off, he realized the officer had never even asked for ID. It was as if they were as annoyed with it as Rhett was the interruption. Except then Rhett realized the time, realized he was an hour late for work.

“Shit!” It was his turn to curse now. “I’m so fucked. I’m so fucking stupid. I’m late for work and I can’t go like this.” He looked down at his pajamas, rolling his eyes. “I know it’s a long shot because I only paid for like, half an hour of your time anyway, but you want some breakfast?”

“I could go for that, yeah,” Link nodded.

* * *

Rhett didn’t really know when to pay Link. If he did it before breakfast, in the car, that felt a little weird. If he waited until after, Link would probably assume he was never going to. So, he went with weird, pulling out his wallet before walking into the restaurant and handing Link extra. “If, um… if you need more than this on account of me falling asleep and keeping you all night, I can get some, but I have to go to the ATM first.”

“Rhett, baby, chill. You said $50 when you got in the car, and this is well over that. I told you. I’m there as long as it takes, right?”

“Thanks,” Rhett said.

“Besides … I’m assuming breakfast is on you, right?” Link asked, giving Rhett a small wink as he opened his car door.

“On me. Of course,” Rhett said, but Link’s door was closed before he could hear an answer. Rhett didn’t mean to rest his hand on Link’s back as he opened the door to the restaurant, but he did it anyway. He didn’t mean for Link to squeeze into his side of the booth, but Link did it anyway. He didn’t mean for this to feel like a date, but it did anyway. He had to keep reminding himself what this was, what  _ Link  _ was, to get through. Otherwise he risked an attachment this couldn’t have, a comfortability that this wasn’t supposed to get.

Before he could order, eyes still scanning the menu, his phone rang. “Hello?”

“Where are you?” Josh demanded on the phone.

“I’m feeling a little under the weather. I called in,” Rhett said. He had, on the way to the diner they were at.

“Are you avoiding me?” Josh asked him. “I know things got a little heated last night, but I thought we were on the same page there, baby.” His voice was low, sexy, and it was having an impact on Rhett. It wasn’t lost on him, the fact that he was on the phone with a guy he’d gotten a handjob from the night before while sitting next to a guy he’d fucked right after.

“I’m not avoiding you. Just sick. I’ll see you Monday?” Rhett asked him.

“I can’t wait that long. Meet me for lunch at one.”

“I’m sick,” Rhett reminded him. That was only a few hours away.

“We both know you’re lying, baby. Meet me at one. Prove to me you’re not avoiding me.”

“One? Where?” Rhett asked.

“The McDonald’s across from the office,” Josh told him. “Don’t make me beg, Rhett. It’s not a good look on me.”

“I’ll be there.” Rhett had no idea what the fuck he was doing, but he was pretty sure he was on a collision course to some major problems if he didn’t figure it out soon.

When Rhett hung up the phone, Link cocked his head to one side. “Do you need to go? Skip breakfast?”

“No, of course not. We’re here. Let’s get food.” Rhett had time, had no need to rush to get to Josh. Besides, he liked his time with Link. He liked how comfortable it seemed. At breakfast, it didn’t feel like a transaction. It felt like they were there together. Before Link could protest or ask any other questions about it, their waitress was back, reappearing at the table.

“I’ll have the Across the Pond Breakfast Plate, scrambled, hashbrowns extra crispy,” Rhett rattled off, passing the menu to the waitress. “Oh, and a green tea latte. Please,” The breakfast plate he ordered was some sort of blend between an American breakfast with pancakes, eggs, bacon, and hashbrowns and an English one, with beans and sausages. It was also one of the largest meals on the menu, and if Rhett was honest with himself, he was starving.

Part of him was also itching to see what Link would order. There was something fascinating about seeing what someone ordered at restaurants, especially on someone else’s dime.

“I’d like 2 slices of wheat toast and a half-order of bacon please. And a black coffee. Thank you.” He passed his menu to her also, and as she walked away, Rhett leaned in close to Link.

“You know you can order anything you want, right? You don’t have to cheap it out. When I said I’d pay, I meant for anything you ordered. If you want steak and eggs, get it. A side of fruit, go for it.”

“I’m good,” Link said, looking at his lap, wringing his hands. “That’ll be plenty.”

“Toast and 2 slices of bacon is not about to fill you up. Unless you and I had different experiences last night, I’m pretty sure you’ll burn that off of you in about 5 minutes the way you work so hard,” Rhett chuckled. “At least eat some of my eggs when my food gets here. Please?”

“Okay,” Link finally gave in.

“So what’s with the tiny order, anyway?” Rhett asked him, reaching for Link’s hand under the table. He wasn’t sure if that was okay, especially now that Link was technically kind of off the clock. But Link took his hand anyway, rubbing Rhett’s hand with his thumb.

“Gotta keep fit,” Link shrugged. “I don’t think they’d want me on stage if I didn’t look the way I did.”

“I don’t think that’s necessarily true,” Rhett answered him. “I think there’s a market for everything. Besides, I bet a lot of people are paying for those pretty blue eyes of yours,” Rhett said. He then moved a thumb to Link’s lip and tugged at it. “And the rest of your pretty face. But I get it,” Rhett shrugged. “Have to stay fit.”

Link nodded.

“So you work out then?” Rhett asked. He’d been meaning to get back into the gym for ages, but he hadn’t had the time. Then again, when thinking back on how he’d spent his time the last few weeks, he’d spent most of it lying and sneaking around, getting off with both Link and Josh… if he trimmed some of that, maybe he would’ve had the time.

“Yeah. My gym’s not far from here, actually. Up the road a block or two.”

Rhett nodded, taking in the info. He didn’t think he’d be bold enough to follow Link to his gym, to seek him out or anything like that. That seemed a little bit too much, felt borderline stalkerish. Then again, he considered, Link had taken his phone number without permission. Maybe Link  _ needed  _ an invasion of his own privacy to get why that was wrong, Rhett thought, toying with the idea of punishing Link for his little indiscretion by showing up at his gym.  _ Whatever.  _ He brushed the thought from his mind. It wasn’t like he’d go work out anyway.

When the food did arrive, Link took his meal slowly, chewing each bite thirty times before he’d swallow. It practically drove Rhett up the wall. He wanted to shake Link, to tell him “just eat it,” and put more food on his plate so Rhett felt like less of a pig, shoveling in his beans without a second thought. Instead, he sat there, watched Link curiously as he took it one bite at a time, and finally, at Rhett’s request, took a forkful of scrambled eggs. “Thanks,” he said, raising his fork a little toward Rhett.

“Take as much as you want,” Rhett said, pinching Link’s side gently. “It wouldn’t hurt for you to get a little fattened up, either.” It was a joke, and Link seemed to respond, a smile playing on his lips as he looked away shyly.  _ Funny,  _ Rhett thought.  _ A shy prostitute and stripper. _

 

**984(10:42am): I can’t wait to see you, baby. I keep looking at the clock and wondering if it’s lunch yet.**


	9. Lunch

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please do not try anything mentioned in this chapter at home.  
> Specific tw: dangerous road sex, choking and breathplay

Rhett didn’t have time to go home and get dressed before meeting Josh, and besides, he’d be risking running into his wife home for lunch. The last thing he needed was to let her know he had lied about not going in early. Instead, he opted to meet Josh the way he looked, in his pajama pants and tee shirt. He didn’t like the impression he was making, the idea that he’d shown up so casual because he’d never dressed down that much to see someone. Well, aside from Link the night before, but that was different, a middle of the night tryst that he couldn’t exactly get dressed properly for anyway. And he was paying Link, so it wasn’t like what he wore could be an issue there.

“Hey, handsome,” Josh flattered him, running a finger along his arm as Rhett stood by his Fusion in the parking lot. “You look comfortable like that.” Rhett couldn’t be sure if he meant it or if he was chiding Rhett’s decision to dress down like that, especially when Josh was dressed for work, tie and all.

“I told you, day off. Everyone needs one,” Rhett shrugged, hoping Josh would be understanding of what he was wearing in the end.

“I like it. Those pants look really easy access to me. I can’t wait to get in them.” There was a low growl in his voice and Rhett wasn’t sure how to respond to something like that, to say that they definitely were easy access because Link had already taken full advantage of that hours before. Instead, he let out a quiet hum of half-approval. “Get in,” Josh told him, gesturing toward his own car, parked beside Rhett. 

It was a command, not a question, and Rhett did what he said, pressing the button on his own key fob and ducking into Josh’s yellow Mustang.

“Nice car,” Rhett told him.

“I know.” It was bright and sleek, far nicer than Rhett’s old Fusion. “Anyway, I was thinking there’s a nice place to get lunch on the other side of town.”

“The other side of town?” Rhett asked, cocking an eyebrow. They didn’t have a ton of time, not if Josh planned on getting back to work after this, and that seemed like a nightmare to head across town for some lunch.

“Is there a problem with that? You afraid someone might catch you playing hookie if you’re driving across town? Come on, live a little,” Josh goaded.

“No problem. I was just making sure I heard you right.”

“Good,” Josh said, shifting the car into gear and pulling onto the street. “You ridden in a Mustang lately?” Josh asked him.

“No. I… honestly, I don’t think I ever have,” Rhett said.

“You’re in for a treat,” Josh told him, settling in to silence and turning up the radio. He navigated to the highway that ran near the middle of town, the one that, if they were to stay on it, would keep taking them to the next town over, pulling onto it without a word. A mile, maybe two miles, they proceeded without talking, with Rhett not knowing what to say or what to ask. At this point, he was sort of captive to Josh’s whims. He was in his car, buckled in, wondering. There was a part of him that was certain Josh wouldn’t tell him where he was going even if he asked. Part of him liked that. Part of him loved the idea that there was something mysterious about this, something secret, a twinge in his gut that made him nervous in the best ways.

“How do you feel about fast cars, Rhett?” Josh asked, snapping Rhett out of his thoughts.

“I—” Rhett started, but Josh didn’t let him finish, reaching over into the passenger seat and sliding his hand along Rhett’s leg.

“You know, it’s a good thing this car is an automatic,” Josh told him. “Means I can get my full attention on the stick I’m really after.”

His hand slid to Rhett’s waistband, and as much as Rhett wasn’t sure that this was even remotely safe, for Josh to have his hands on him and be trying to steer a car, Rhett was interested, a little hot from it. He shifted his hips and moved his waistband to make it easier, against his better judgment.

“Are you, um. Are you sure it’s safe?” Rhett asked him, biting his lip.

“I’m sure it’s fun,” Josh said, leveling his eyes at Rhett before turning back to watch the road. His hand wrapped around Rhett’s cock, stroking it slowly. “God, you’re already turned on, aren’t you? A little slut for a thrill, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Rhett breathed. Going 65 miles an hour with a hand around him was something. But then Josh hit 70, then 75. “It’s, um. It’s a 65 here,” Rhett said quietly.

“Do you have a problem with my speed, Rhett?”

“No, I just wasn’t sure if you noticed,” he said.

  1. Rhett squirmed in his seat, hand gripping the door a little bit because it was so fast, almost too fast. It was probably fine, would probably _be_ fine, but the reality was, Josh wasn’t seeming to slow down. The motor purred loudly, a noise Rhett had never heard going his usual 2 miles over the speed limit in his Fusion.
  2. Rhett started to feel a little sick at the unanticipated thrill ride. He didn’t dislike the fact that Josh was being daring, but he did worry about the climbing speed. “Josh,” he said.



“You scared?”

  1. Rhett could hardly breathe. “No,” he lied. He was, at least a little bit. Josh seemed unphased by the speed, his hand moving on Rhett’s cock as if they were standing still, as if he wasn’t going 25 miles over the speed limit. Rhett wondered how they weren’t getting pulled over, considering how his seat was rumbling underneath him, a vibration that sent shockwaves through his body.
  2. Josh, one hand on the wheel, whipped the car back and forth, weaving between slower cars. Rhett’s heart was up somewhere near his throat.
  3. “Josh, please,” he said. He was torn between fear and lust, terrified but also leaking precome with every movement of Josh’s hand. This was risky, this was terrifying, this was… fun? Each time Josh moved back and forth, the wheels slid across the road in an unnatural, almost serpentine way that didn’t feel right to Rhett. At the same time, the seat was vibrating harder, only emphasizing the way Josh stroked his cock.
  4. It felt like too much, too dangerous, too… something.
  5. “Josh, seriously, stop!” Rhett cried out, pushing Josh’s hand off of him. He didn’t tuck himself away but he couldn’t be handling Josh’s touch and the speed all at once. Something had to give.
  6. “Stop? Do you really want me to?”



“Yes!” Rhett answered. Josh yanked the steering wheel to the side of the road, to the shoulder, grinding the car to a halt and jarring Rhett forward.

“Fine.”

“What the fuck, Josh? What were you thinking? We could have been pulled over, or we could have wrecked! We could’ve gotten killed! Or killed someone else!” Rhett freaked out, grasping the door handle and contemplating getting out.

“Were we?”

“What?”

“Were we? Pulled over, wrecked, killed, murdering people senselessly, any of the things you’re worried about?” Josh looked at him, stared him down, a soft smile curling on his lips.

“No,” Rhett answered him.

“Exactly. I’m not going to get you hurt, Rhett. Chill. I just want you to realize that it’s okay to live a little, that’s all.” He put his hand on Rhett’s leg, but Rhett jerked away, turning his body from Josh and putting his cock back in his pants, facing out the window. “Rhett, babe, I’m… I’m sorry. I wouldn’t have done that if I would’ve known it was going to freak you out so much. I’m sorry. Come here.” His voice was soft and compassionate, gentle in a way Rhett hadn’t heard it before, and he turned toward Josh. “Come here.”

Josh held out his arms and pulled Rhett in, tugging him close. “I’m so sorry, baby. I won’t do it again, okay? I won’t do it again.” He reassured him and ran his hand down Rhett’s back, soothing him with soft, gentle fingertips on his back. “Can I make it up to you?”

“How?” Rhett asked quietly.

“I have an idea. Do you trust me? I know it’s hard after I just scared the shit out of you, but maybe give me one more chance?” Josh asked earnestly, voice sincere. Rhett gave a small nod and watched Josh pull out his phone.

“Hey, it’s Josh… My car is acting up and I think I’m going to have to take it into the shop. I’m not going to make it back after lunch today… Awesome, thanks, Chase. See you Monday.” He hung up the phone and turned his attention back to Rhett. “See? Now I’ve got time to make it up to you. What time do you need to be home?”

* * *

Rhett never knew what to expect with Josh. How could he, though? The night before, Josh had been giving him a handjob in his kitchen, having his girlfriend and Rhett’s wife eat salad filled with Rhett’s cum. That day, it was a wild drive down a highway that Rhett still had no clue how they didn’t get pulled over from — perhaps good timing? — followed by being thrown down on a hotel bed.

“Thought we were getting lunch?” Rhett murmured. He wasn’t complaining about the turn of events, just blindsided by the way things always seemed so unpredictable with Josh.

“Maybe you’re my lunch,” Josh said, kissing Rhett’s neck and grasping Rhett’s cock through his pants. “Maybe I’m going to devour you. Does that sound okay, baby?” Josh asked him, breath hot on Rhett’s skin as he slid the shirt up Rhett’s body and off of him, onto the floor.

“It sounds so good,” Rhett answered him, breath heavy from Josh’s body pressed against him. There was something about this, something about what Josh was doing that was making him feel good.

“I’m so sorry I scared you, but I plan to spend the whole afternoon making it up to you. I promise I won’t do that again,” Josh told him. “Do you trust me?”

He was doing a good job of earning Rhett’s trust with the way his hand slid it’s way into his pants, stroking him. “I trust you,” Rhett told him.

“Good. I know that I couldn’t get you off in the car but I fully intend to do it right here,” Josh told him, biting at his lower stomach, dragging his tongue gently along Rhett’s skin. His lips were so close to Rhett now, and he licked the tip of his cock, then blew cool air on it between his soft lips. Then, he wrapped his lips around Rhett’s cock, taking it as deeply as he could.

“Fuck, that feels good,” Rhett said, hand wrapping the back of Josh’s head, resisting the urge to thrust up into his mouth.

“That’s my goal, making you feel good,” Josh told him, running his tongue along the length as he held Rhett’s cock in his hand. Rhett was leaking precum, desperate to finish, when Josh stopped completely, moving back up Rhett’s body and nipping at his neck. Close to his ear, he whispered, “what do you say we have a little fun, baby?”

“What do you mean?” Rhett asked him.

“I mean like this.” Josh moved off of the bed, taking his tie off and setting it next to Rhett’s feet. Unbuttoning his shirt one button at a time, slowly, carefully, staring Rhett down, he slid it off of himself and draped it over the back of a chair. His shoes and pants followed, belt slipping out of the loops one by one. He hadn’t exactly answered Rhett’s question, but Rhett hadn’t exactly noticed that because he was distracted by Josh’s slow undress.

As soon as he was naked, he crawled back next to Rhett, tie in his hands. He dragged the silk of it slow and soft along Rhett’s skin, teasing it slowly up and down his arms, tracing the tip of the tie over one nipple, then the other. He gathered it in his hand, smoothing the silk over Rhett’s neck and giving it a soft squeeze. But then he took the tip again, teasing it soft against Rhett’s lips until Rhett was sputtering from the ticklish touch. “Close your eyes.” Rhett did as he was told.

Josh took the tie, wrapping it around Rhett’s eyes, tying him into darkness. “Is this okay?” he asked.

“Yeah,” Rhett answered. “It’s good.” He’d never done anything blindfolded, never been like this, and the darkness was overwhelming. What he didn’t expect was the way he could hear everything better, could hear Josh shift off of the bed and away from him.

“Roll over, baby,” Josh said, and Rhett did as he was told, turning over. Josh planted a kiss on his spine. “I’m going to spank you now.” He was saying it, not asking it, and for a moment, Rhett wondered what Josh would do if he said no. But Rhett liked spanking, liked when Link did that to him, and he craved it now, craved punishment for all of the things he’d been doing. He was being a royal slut lately, fucking Link, messing around with Josh, still being married to Jess. He deserved the punishment, the feeling of Josh’s hands — or hell, his belt — on his skin.

“Do it,” Rhett confirmed, giving him the permission he might have been asking for. Josh started with his hands, soft smacks on Rhett’s skin, warming him up with his palms and his fingers. It didn’t take him long to seem to get bored with that, with grasping Rhett’s ass in his hands, slapping it with force that Rhett was sure left handprints.

Rhett knew he was bored with it by the way he snapped his belt, the way Rhett heard him swish it through the air before landing it firmly on his skin. Bucking forward, Rhett yelped in response, crying out against the blanket. Josh didn’t show much mercy or give him much time before a second smack, leaving Rhett reeling forward again. “Fuck,” he breathed.

“You’re taking it so good for me, baby,” Josh told him, striping the belt across his bare ass again. “So good.” Rhett’s yelps were getting louder, his cries more intense with each smack, until Josh was pulling the tie from his eyes and stuffing it into his mouth instead. “Shut up,” he snapped, but then he smoothed his hand over Rhett’s jaw, kissed the side of his lips just beside the fabric there. “You want to watch?”

Rhett looked over his shoulder, watching the way Josh’s belt whipped through the air. Even watching, he wasn’t prepared for the sting. If there were any question if he liked it, though, it was quickly remedied by his aching hard-on and the way his cock jerked with each lash, with the way he tried to move his hips low enough for any kind of contact with the bed.

“Ooh, you like it rough, do you? Filthy little slut. You want it rough, baby? I can get really rough if you want me to.”

Rhett whimpered, closing his eyes a little, shifting his hips back. He wasn’t sure how much more of the spanking foreplay he could take, and he hoped that by rough, Josh meant he was going to fuck him hard, rough, whatever it took. He needed it, needed to feel Josh inside of him, feel the stretch of being filled like that. Unable to speak with the tie stuffed in his mouth, Rhett nodded. He wanted it, however roughly Josh was going to dish it out.

Josh laid down on Rhett, pressing his body against Rhett’s back, pushing him to the bed until Rhett’s cock was against the fabric. He shifted and groaned, letting out a soft yelp of pleasure and need.

“You want me to break you, baby?” Josh asked him. Rhett nodded. “You want me to make it hurt?” Rhett nodded again. Pain was fine. He could handle pain. “How do you feel about breathing?”

Rhett didn’t know how to answer that, what to respond, if he should tell Josh he was down — he’d be willing to try almost anything — or if he wasn’t. Breathing seemed essential.

“Don’t worry, baby. I’ll let you catch your breath. I promise.” He tugged the tie from Rhett’s mouth, tossing it on the floor beside the bed. It didn’t seem like he needed it for his purposes. “Come on, tell me. You want to play?”

“Yeah,” Rhett accepted. At this point, anything to go get Josh inside of him.

“Good.” Josh backed off of him then, biting the raw, spanked skin of his ass and spreading him, licking and prodding with his tongue until he was writhing on the bed. Not entirely gentle, Josh slicked his fingers with spit to slide the first one in, drizzling lube on before going in with another one. He had to have known this was going to happen, Rhett realized, that the afternoon would go this way, because he’d come prepared. Rhett got a good sense of what Josh was doing just by the way he’d move, and Josh didn’t take long before sliding into Rhett fully, hard cock inside of Rhett’s ass. It felt amazing.

Before Rhett could get used to the pacing, Josh slipped the belt forward, around Rhett’s neck. It was folded in half, and Josh held each side, giving Rhett an out if he needed to breathe. All he had to do was sit up a little more, straighten his arms and he’d be breathing again. For a little bit, he leaned into it, let himself grow dizzy and lightheaded from the leather strap against his throat, but then he’d pull up gasping, as if his choke hadn’t been mostly self-induced.

“Feels good, doesn’t it?” Josh asked him. “I bet it would feel better if you gave up some of that control, baby. I know you’re the boss man at work compared to me, but here? You gotta let me take the reigns.” Rhett liked the shift, the power dynamic, the way his seniority didn’t matter now. Sure, he had a few years on Josh, both in age and experience in the office. But none of that mattered  _ here _ .

Josh moved the belt, made it so it wasn’t doubled up, and used a hand to hold both sides of it so the other could press against Rhett’s back, keep him down a little until he was fighting back against Josh’s hand. Every time he’d move to breathe, Josh would seem to count in his head, push Rhett a few seconds longer, then let go, leaving Rhett sucking in air like his life depended on it. There was a sense of bliss to it, the way that Josh never stopped his punishing pace as he fucked Rhett, the way that Rhett didn’t fully have control. There was freedom in the loss of it, freedom in the way that he was letting his life depend on Josh’s willingness to let up and let him breathe.

Mostly, all it did was make him harder.

“So good for me, Rhett. You really like when I take charge, don’t you?” Josh asked him. The belt got tighter then, and Rhett could feel the metal brush the back of his neck as though Josh had practically leashed him with it. With each tug it got tighter, closing around him and making him get dizzy. His vision blurred at the edges and Rhett gave into the sensation, the way it felt and the dizzying sense of being pulled back and thrust into. He wasn’t sure how much more of it he could take, though, with white spots growing bolder in his eyes. Josh used the belt to tug him back, pulling Rhett into a kiss, and Rhett struggled to stay conscious. Just as he got weak, started to lose his balance, he could feel Josh pull the belt off of his neck and toss it to the ground, pushing Rhett forward onto the bed and holding him down, face-first, with both of his palms on Rhett’s back. “Oh, fuck, Rhett, I’m gonna cum, I’m going to fill you up. Oh, fuck,” he grunted, pushing into Rhett and spilling into him. Rhett realized as Josh’s cum filled him that he hadn’t even thought to ask about a condom. Now, he was too worn to care, feeling as Josh flipped him over and stroked his cock, wrapping his lips around it as he slipped his fingers into Rhett’s ass again. “Gotta keep my seed inside of you, baby,” he breathed, pushing his fingers hard into Rhett, shoving it back in as he took Rhett’s cock deeply. That was too much, too intense, and Rhett bucked off of the bed, moaning loudly and collapsing back onto the bedding, eyes fluttering shut.

“Fuck,” he groaned, and as Josh removed his fingers, he could feel the cum trickling out. “Fuck.” For a long while, he laid there, moving between keeping his eyes closed and flicking them open to stare at the ceiling.

“It was a good fuck, wasn’t it?” Josh asked, laying down beside him. “You’re a really good fuck, Rhett.”

“Yeah,” Rhett said, and then he gave into the sleep his body was desperate for.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shoutout to my car girl fanbabble who helped me out with some of the descriptions of how a really, really fast Mustang feels.


	10. Stalking

Rhett had to push any feelings that he was a stalker out of his mind for now. He wasn’t  _ stalking  _ anyway, per say. He was simply going to a gym and hoping it was Link’s. If it wasn’t, or if Link wasn’t there, he’d get a good workout in, maybe put some effort in that he’d been forgetting to put in for a while. After all, it wasn’t like Jess cared what he looked like. Or maybe it was that he didn’t care what Jess thought of what he looked like, but that wasn’t the point. Right now, Josh was intensely interested in him, and he wanted to look good for the guy fucking him.

That didn’t exactly help him explain to himself why he’d chosen Link’s gym specifically, but he had. He couldn’t deny that he was attracted to Link, either, and he definitely couldn’t deny he wanted to look good for Link. It was just that Link was paid to be attracted to him no matter what he looked like, so he didn’t feel the need to make a huge effort the way he did with Josh. Josh had a choice. Link followed the money.

Either way, he wasn’t anywhere to be seen. Rhett briefly considered going home, seeking out another gym instead, wasting the free trial pass he’d gotten for the day.  _ You’re not here for Link,  _ he reminded himself, setting to work on a treadmill to warm up. He wasn’t there for Link. He was there for himself, and he kept repeating that to himself every time his foot met the conveyor below him. As the tempo of his music increased, so did his run, and he mentally ticked through the other machines he wanted to try out that day, the other parts of his workout he wanted to accomplish with the time he had. It was a Sunday and he had a full afternoon to exercise, so it wasn’t like he needed to pick everything right away. Instead, he figured he’d try some weights after that.  _ Note to self: get a trainer so I know what the fuck I’m doing,  _ he thought to himself. He had no clue what the standard process to a workout was, not anymore. He hadn’t done this consistently since college and even then, he was more throwing his energy at everything and hoping something stuck.

Now, he had no idea what he was doing. All he knew was he was running, and eventually, he’d be doing something else. His sole focus was on this: one foot, another, one foot, another. Mind blurring with the effort, Rhett forgot the reason he’d come to the gym in the first place. Or, the reason he’d told himself he didn’t come to the gym. He was so focused that the tap on his shoulder startled him. Feet catching, he slid back off of the treadmill and barely kept himself standing. “What the—”

“Hey, stranger,” Link said, wide grin on his face. “You stalking me?”

“I’m not!” Rhett started to protest, but Link’s soft chuckle made it clear that he was joking and Rhett hadn’t caught it quite as easily. “I, uh … I’ve been looking for a gym and thought I’d try this one. It’s on my way home from work and I thought it would be convenient,” Rhett explained. It was a white lie. He left out the part where it was a little more out of the way of both of those places than was entirely necessary, or that there were other gyms with a better location.  _ You’re not here to see him. He’s not here to see you. _

“This is a good one,” Link said. “I’m usually here around noon, but with the right motivation, I’d shift my workouts to a more normal after-work schedule.” Link smiled at him. “Anyway, since you’re here, want to spot for me? I can return the favor.”

“Sure,” Rhett said, wiping his face with his shirt as Link’s eyes fixated on the patch of skin he revealed. “Show me where.”

Rhett had no clue what he was doing but he was happy to help, standing there and watching Link, holding onto his feet, whatever Link needed him to do really. In the meantime, as he tried to focus on doing what Link asked of him, he had trouble keeping his eyes off of him. Everything about Link screamed  _ erotic _ and  _ beautiful.  _ Every time he’d see a patch of Link’s skin around his waistband, he’d fantasize about running his tongue along it. When Link would lift something, move, he’d think about Link lifting his arms above his head and pinning them, or about his hands on Link’s slender waist. Watching Link, working out with him, having his hands on him, it was all dangerous. Rhett struggled to maintain his composure and avoid getting hard at the sight of him.

“I think I’m pretty much all worked out… out…” Link tried to say, stumbling over words that didn’t quite make sense but conveyed the idea that when it came to his own workout, he was done.

“Okay,” Rhett said. He didn’t know what to say otherwise. It wasn’t like he could say  _ Hey Link, let’s go fuck in the bathroom,  _ so he nodded and started to ask Link to spot him in return, if only to get a few more minutes with him, another half hour, another … however long he could get, really.

“Thanks for helping me out,” Link said, getting close to Rhett, right up in his space. “If you need me to spot you, I can.” His voice was low now, soft as his got closer, standing on his toes until his lips brushed Rhett’s ear. “Or you could meet me in the changing room over there in two minutes for a different sort of workout.”

Rhett was sure the sigh he let out was audible to most of the room, the soft whimper of need. He was sure Link had noticed the way he’d been staring, licking his lips like he was damn near a predator, hunting Link, seeking him out. He needed him and craved the touches Link offered and he was willing to pay anything he had to. Josh was great in a way that made his stomach leap up somewhere near his throat and left him feeling on edge, not sure what to expect. Link was good in all of the ways that made him feel fulfilled, made him feel comfortable, like Link was going to take his time. They were different kinds of need fulfillment, different kinds of desires taken care of, and right now he needed what Link could offer him. He hadn’t been laid since Friday.

It was funny, how he felt like that seemed like so long, but he was going weeks — hell, months — between times he and Jessica would do anything. Link was waiting, and he needed to decide: work out, or fuck Link.

His mind had been made up before he’d ever entered the doors to this gym. As much as he tried to tell himself he wasn’t there for Link, he couldn’t fool anyone. Especially not himself. Long strides carried him to the dressing room Link was in, and as he closed and locked the door behind him, Link was on him, pushing him to the door and kissing him.

“The rules,” Rhett managed to choke out between bruising kisses. Link had made him promise not to kiss him anywhere near the lips, anywhere above the neck at all.

“Fuck the rules,” Link breathed. He was practically climbing Rhett like a tree, biting his lip and nuzzling at his jaw. “I want you.” Rhett reached down, picking Link up and spinning them, pressing Link to the door as he kissed him deeply, Link’s hands toying with his hair, tugging it a little to guide Rhett’s head where he wanted it, between his soft lips and the curve of his jaw near his ear. “God, I want you so badly,” he murmured. “Please fuck me, Rhett.”

He was pliable and needy in a way Rhett hadn’t seen before, and it was incredibly sexy, overwhelmingly hot. “I’ll fuck you,” Rhett told him, pulling a condom from his gym shorts pocket --  _ you didn't come here for him, my ass,  _ Rhett chided himself _ \-- _ and easing Link to the ground and onto the bench there for whoever might have been changing. Link took his tank top off and tossed it to the ground. Tugging Rhett closer by the hem of his shirt, he all but begged Rhett for another kiss, dragging him down and sliding his tongue along Rhett's. Rhett could barely stop kissing him long enough to work Link's cock through his shorts, sliding the leg of them up enough to reveal what he already knew: Link hadn't worn underwear to the gym.

As Rhett swirled his tongue around the tip of his cock, Link’s fingers tangled in his hair, keeping him in place with soft whines. “That feels so good, baby,” Link whined, and the encouragement only made Rhett try harder, eventually tugging his shorts down to free Link’s dick entirely. As he took as much of it as he could, he found himself bobbing on Link’s cock, stroking it with his lips before slowing down to run his tongue along the length. “If you don’t stop I’ll cum,” Link said, words choked out in pleasure.

“Then why would I stop?” Rhett asked him, continuing to suck Link’s dick and take it deeper.

“Because you haven’t fucked me,” Link said, eyes rolling back as his head tilted back in pleasure. “You have to fuck me, Rhett, I’m begging you.” It seemed to Rhett like Link wasn’t entirely in control of his actions right then, needy desperation winning out over actual coherent want.

“Oh, I’ll fuck you,” Rhett growled out, pulling off of Link. “Shit. I forgot lube!” He’d brought the condom but nothing else, until Link reached into his pocket and pulled out a small silver packet.

“I’ve been bringing it ever since you asked where my gym was. Just in case.” It seemed Link had been hoping Rhett would practically stalk him as much as Rhett had hoped Link would show up the day he finally did. Was it really stalking if his target was into it, wanting him just as badly? Probably not, Rhett settled on, and he felt less guilty about how he’d come  _ here  _ specifically, and how Link was about to cum here, specifically.

“Fuck,” Rhett groaned, rolling the condom he’d brought onto himself as he watched Link tear the lube packet open with his teeth, drizzling it into his hand. He worked Rhett with it, reaching between his legs for him and looking up at him as he leaned back on the bench with Rhett standing before him. He then took the lube, sliding it into himself, one finger at a time, giving Rhett a perfect view of everything. “Holy crap,” Rhett breathed. He couldn’t contain the fact that words were coming out of his mouth and he wasn’t sure what they were but he knew he desperately wanted to be inside of Link immediately. 

“Come here,” Link said, pulling Rhett closer with his feet, then with his hands. He grasped Rhett’s hand, pulling him down into another kiss, insatiable. “How do you want me?”

“Like this,” Rhett said, sitting down beside him and tugging Link into his lap so Link’s back brushed his chest. Link nodded and reached between his legs, guiding Rhett’s cock to his entrance and slowly sinking down onto it, controlling the pace at first before letting go and taking it all, reaching over his shoulder to touch the back of Rhett’s head, to pull him forward for another kiss.

“For someone who wouldn’t let me kiss him, you sure seem to like—” Rhett started, but Link cut him off with yet another kiss.

“Yeah,” Link said quietly between kisses. “I know.” He tugged Rhett’s hands onto his body, moving them for Rhett, up to his chest, along his skin, like he couldn’t decide where he wanted to be touched. Rhett was willing to accept the guidance, to take it and let Link touch himself with Rhett’s hands anywhere. Link kept Rhett’s hands away from his cock, but left them roaming everywhere else as he bounced on Rhett’s cock, taking it deeper and deeper, in and out until he was whining. “That feels so good, Rhett, you fuck me so good, oh my god, that’s so good,” he choked out. Rhett’s lips strayed to his neck, kissed his shoulder.

“You’re so beautiful like this,” Rhett said, too into it to further clarify that he thought Link was beautiful all the time, every time he’d seen him. “Feels good,” he mumbled, happy for the contact. Link was good to him, good with him, seemed to know what he liked, and as Rhett teased Link’s nipples with his fingertips, pinching them gently, Link yelped, cum spilling from him without him having touched himself, without Rhett’s touch there.

“Oh my god,” Link groaned, pulling off of Rhett for a moment, swiping his fingers at his cum, which ran down the side of his cock. Rhett grasped his wrist tightly, drawing Link’s fingers to his lips and licking the cum from them, eyes on Link’s the whole time. When Link kissed him again, he was sure Link could taste himself on his lips, and that thought kept Rhett hard. “Don’t stop fucking me,” Link pleaded, standing and leaning against the wall, showing Rhett his ass and shaking it a little. Rhett didn’t need to be asked twice.

The new position was a good one, with Rhett standing behind him and driving into him as Link leaned forward, letting Rhett push in again and again. “You’re so good,” Link gasped, and Rhett blushed at that. He didn’t have a lot of experience and Link had to have known that, but the words made him feel good, special, like he was doing it right.

It didn’t take him much longer after Link to cum hard, and as he sank down on the bench behind him, he looked up at Link. “Yeah?” he asked, not sure what he was asking at all, just saying words as if they mattered.

“Yeah, that was good,” Link nodded, answering a question he hadn’t asked. “It was real good.”

For a moment, Rhett just panted, trying to catch his breath and regain any sense of normalcy. He hadn’t exactly used the equipment, but he had certainly gotten the workout as promised.

“You good?” Link asked him, leaning against the wall.

“Yeah,” Rhett said again. “So, uh… how much do I owe you?” he finally asked.

“Are you being serious right now?” Link asked him.

“I just meant, uh, since we—”

“Fuck you,” Link said, grabbing his shorts and tugging them on.

“I don’t understand,” Rhett said.

“$100. Okay? That work for you?” Link sneered.

“My wallet’s in the locker, but uh, I can—”

“Don’t worry, I’ll add it to your tab,” Link said, snatching up his shirt as he whipped the door open and slammed the door behind him, leaving Rhett to wonder what the hell he’d done wrong.


	11. Monday Night Meeting

Rhett didn’t know what to do with himself. On Monday, he went over his interaction with Link again and again in his head. It was obvious he’d gone wrong by mentioning money. He wasn’t completely stupid. Link had been fine until he’d mentioned paying him, and then everything had gone south. But Rhett didn’t understand  _ why _ . Up until that point, their relationship had existed in a world of transactions. He wasn’t sure what clue would have led him to believe that the gym was any different, that it was anything other than yet another transaction, another time that Link was hoping to get paid for his services.

But something had changed. Maybe it was the breakfast. Maybe it was the time they spent together at the gym. Maybe it was Link thinking Rhett had paid for the sex by spotting him or something, he didn’t know. It was hard to tell what was going on in Link’s brain, andRhett wasn’t even sure he could really ask him. All of that felt like too much for what their relationship was: an exchange of money for services.

Maybe he’d make time on Thursday to go to the club, book a VIP room, talk to Link about what this was. Then things could get better between them. Or maybe they couldn’t, Rhett didn’t really know. He could at least try, though, could talk to Link and make it right. In his head, he went through the possible conversations. Maybe Link would confess his feelings for Rhett, would tell him he liked him. Then Rhett would have to figure out what he wanted … did he really  _ want  _ Link? Yeah, he did. Except he wondered if it would ever be real the way it was with Josh. Link always wanted him because he had money to offer. Josh wanted him because he wanted him, and it was hard for Rhett to reconcile the idea that Link might want something beyond the money. He was scared of what that might mean for him, for them, hell, for his relationship with Josh.

Josh, though, was a wild card. He was thrilling and fun, but terrifying in a whole host of ways. He pushed Rhett to his limits, sometimes a little past them, but never so far that Rhett wasn’t practically begging for more. He didn’t know what to do. Plus, all of that hinged on Link actually wanting him. The more likely thing was that Link had been in a bad mood post-workout, wanted Rhett, but would go right back to wanting his money the very next time they were together. Maybe it was a momentary freebie, a frequent customer reward, some sort of gift and Rhett had simply misunderstood it. Maybe it wasn’t true connection after all. With Link, Rhett couldn’t be sure.

“Knock, knock,” Josh said, in his usual way of knocking while saying the words aloud as he stepped into Rhett’s office. Without asking, he closed the door and stepped close to him. “Hey, handsome. You barely replied to me all weekend.” Josh’s lips formed a gentle pout, and Rhett stood, unable to resist the look on his face.

“Sorry. I was busy.” He had been busy, first dealing with some plumbing issue that Jess was convinced was his fault, even though she’d been the one to hire the shitty half-assed plumber who hadn’t fixed the toilet right in the first place, and then on Sunday … at the gym.

“Too busy for me?” Josh pouted again, stepping into Rhett’s space and backing him toward the wall. “I can’t believe you’re too busy for me. What do you think, Rhett? Should I do something about how you can’t even send me a text?” He gave a small wink, a predatory smile that made Rhett weak.

“I think you should punish me,” Rhett said softly. “Maybe tonight?” Jess had plans with the girls, something about going out and getting drinks or whatever. He hadn’t paid a ton of attention, but he’d been instructed not to bother coming home tonight. As always, he assumed it meant payback, that she’d try to bring someone home. He wouldn’t have been surprised by that in the slightest, honestly. He knew he could check their home security cameras and see, but he was so far past caring about his relationship with his wife that he didn’t bother. Why torture himself wondering what that guy offered that he didn’t? The short answer would be  _ everything _ . At least whoever she was hooking up with wasn’t gay. Well, probably. She was with him, so her gaydar had to be off somehow. Or maybe he just wasn’t obvious about it. He didn’t know.

“I can’t tonight,” Josh said, running his palm down Rhett’s stomach, giving his cock a squeeze through his pants. “I have plans already,” he whispered in Rhett’s ear, continuing to knead at his balls with a gentle touch. “You could’ve been my plans if you had replied to me.” This time he gave a harder squeeze that made Rhett want to double over in agony but also made him want to cum hard. Josh knew how far to take it, to torture him in the best ways, and he loved it.

“Tomorrow?”

“Baby, I’m overbooked this week. My girlfriend thinks I’m not paying attention to her lately. She says I’m … unfocused. I have to keep her happy, don’t I?”

“Do you?” Rhett didn’t understand why she needed to be happy. Jess wasn’t, and if Josh was truly into him … he brushed the thought from his mind. Just because he’d leave Jess if Josh said the word didn’t mean he could expect the same from him. There were clearly reasons he stayed with her, just like Rhett had reasons to stay with Jess, even if those reasons got less important and more tenuous as time went on.

“I do, babe. You know you’re still my favorite toy,” he said, flicking his tongue over Rhett’s earlobe and giving him one more squeeze before backing away. “Don’t make plans this weekend. I’ve got it to myself and you and I are going to make up for all the time we didn’t get to have this week. I want you all to myself this weekend,  _ all  _ weekend. You got that?”

“Yeah,” Rhett nodded, mouth open a little. Josh shocked him in the best ways, and a whole weekend sounded incredible. Way better than a quick evening hookup.

Besides, Rhett having the evening to himself meant he could figure out what the fuck was up with Link. When he got to the club, Link was nowhere to be seen. Rhett wanted to worry before he remembered it was a Monday. He didn’t even know if Link  _ worked  _ Mondays. He also briefly wondered if now was too soon after the ill-fated ending to their gym tryst for him to see Link again, but he did his best to push that thought out of his mind also.

As the lights flashed and Link appeared on stage, Rhett perked up. Seeing him was just about the only thing that could make Rhett feel better and stifle his worries. At first, Link didn’t look at him, but that was to be expected. Link hadn’t known to expect him on a Monday, and Rhett tried to suppress his fear that Link was angry a little bit longer.

It was harder to do that, though, when he caught Link’s eye and Link immediately looked away. Rhett wasn’t one to take chances, to take Link’s single glance away as a no. He was too dedicated to Link’s affection now, or as dedicated as he could be to his stripper-turned-paid-lover when he had a fuckbuddy and a wife. Still, he walked closer to the stage, pulling out a five dollar bill and folding it, holding it out toward Link. As Link walked to collect other tips, he took each person’s hand, gliding his fingertips over their skin before grasping the money and sliding it in. For a few lucky bastards, he tipped his body toward them, let them tuck it into the delicate lace g-string he was wearing. It was the most revealing getup he’d ever had on at this club, and it wasn’t leaving a lot to the imagination in a great way.

When Link approached Rhett to take his tip, he plucked it from Rhett’s hands with outstretched fingers. They didn’t even touch. Rhett had fucked up and he knew it, but he wondered how much money it would take for Link to stop playing hard-to-get. He didn’t have a ton of money, but the reason he drove a Fusion and not a Mustang or something else was because he’d been careful with what he  _ did  _ have. There was enough, he knew, to allow him a few minor indiscretions. A habit of paying for time with Link was one of those things, and he planned to do whatever it took to get back in Link’s good graces.

The more Link ignored him, the more Rhett longed for his touch, and he wondered if this was part of the plan all along, part of the way Link had broken the rules. Maybe, Rhett wondered, it was a way to get him to want Link even more desperately. If it was, it was working. Rhett couldn’t take his eyes off of Link for a second. He was hooked.

Rhett removed a ten dollar bill from his wallet and stayed beside the stage, reaching out his hands with the money in it. This time, he kept most of it hidden in his palm. Link would have to touch him if he wanted the tip. Even if it was a tricky way of getting his touch, it was something, and it was something Rhett needed more than anything.

When Link did venture over, taking the tip, he touched Rhett’s hand with force, grasping his wrist and pulling Rhett closer. “How much longer are you going to keep doing this?” Link growled.

“Until you’ll talk to me,” Rhett answered, feeling himself get hard at the level of control Link had over his needs. Link’s tone alone was enough to do it for him, and Rhett wondered what it was that liked that kind of harshness from his men. He didn’t know and wasn’t going to analyze it now. “I need a lap dance,” Rhett said, opening his hand for Link to take the money.

“Okay,” Link said. And then he was back to his set, the rest of his routine. Rhett could hardly wait. After Link left the stage, Rhett waited hopefully, anxious for Link to invade his personal space again, maybe grind on him,  _ something.  _ Even if Link were upset with him, which Rhett didn’t think was the case, he definitely wouldn’t pass up the opportunity to coax Rhett into more time. Rhett was, as always, prepared to pay for it. If that’s what Link’s game called for, Rhett was willing to play into it.

“You want a lap dance?” someone approached him.  _ Chase? _ Rhett couldn’t quite remember his name.

“I already asked Link,” Rhett said apologetically. He was certain Chase was nice, and he was cute as a button, but he looked like a soft, sweet puppy compared to Link’s dark, vicious wolf, and Rhett was attracted to the dark glare and deep eyes. “Maybe next time?” He didn’t want Chase to feel bad. He seemed like a good guy, if not a little young to be working here, probably just on the cusp of old enough.

“Link sent me over, actually,” Chase said. “But if you don’t want one from me, I get it.”

_ Link  _ sent him? Rhett couldn’t wrap his brain around that idea, but he also didn’t feel right telling Chase no if he was telling the truth. Not if Link promised Chase that Rhett would pay (and probably promised him he’d pay well). “Okay. Lap dance it is,” Rhett said with a soft smile. “Please.”

Chase was much shorter than Link. Where Link was a solid 7 inches shorter than Rhett, Chase was even smaller. It made his angles more awkward, even with Rhett sitting down, but he was cute, and as he ran his hands down Rhett’s chest, it was hard not to get into it at least a little. “Are you new?” Rhett asked him. Somehow, talking to Chase seemed easier than talking to Link had at first. Maybe it was because Chase seemed so much more gentle, and maybe it was because Rhett was slightly less attracted to him than he was to Link (not that he couldn’t form an attraction to him, because damn, Chase  _ was  _ cute), or maybe it was the fact that he was getting more confident after interacting with Link and with Josh. Maybe, just maybe, Rhett was changing as a person, coming into his own and opening to his desires. In turn, it might have been that which made talking to Chase easier.

“I’ve been here about a month now, yeah,” Chase answered him, grinding his ass on Rhett’s hardening cock. Even if Chase wasn’t the guy of his dreams, it was hard not to get a physical reaction to what he was doing. “You come here much? I haven’t seen you before,” Chase said. He toyed with Rhett’s tie, leaned in close. He was good at what he was doing, that was for damn sure.

“I usually come on Thursdays,” Rhett answered him.

“Sounds like I need to ask for Thursdays, then,” Chase said, winking at him. Rhett was in over his head now. If Chase, the cutie that he was, moved nights just to see him more? He was royally fucked. Two guys were enough to juggle, especially now that one was barely speaking to him. Three would be unmanageable.

Not once did the guilt properly seep into Rhett’s mind like it could have, like it arguably should have. He was a married man with two affairs, one he paid for, and all he could do was think of another. He knew he was weak. He knew he was needy and making bad choices. And he knew he wanted more. Not necessarily with Chase, but he was no longer ruling the possibility out as Chase thrust toward his face, wrapping a hand around the back of Rhett’s head as if he’d draw him in for a kiss. For his dance, Rhett tipped generously. If Link had told Chase anything about what he paid like, the last thing he wanted to do was be a disappointment. “Thanks for the dance, Chase,” Rhett said.

“Pleasure was mine, Rhett,” Chase answered. Rhett hadn’t recalled ever mentioning his own name.

But Rhett hadn’t come here for Chase, and even if he’d been a pleasant surprise, he hadn’t really quenched Rhett’s thirst for seeing Link. Knowing Link wouldn’t refuse, Rhett walked toward the VIP lounges with one thought in mind: Link. Link alone.


	12. Transaction

After five minutes, Rhett was impatient. After ten, he was worried. After twenty minutes of waiting for Link, Rhett was certain he wouldn’t come. Just as he stood up, prepared to leave altogether, the curtains opened and Link was there, still in his barely-there clothing. A black g-string barely contained his length, and his garter belt to hold his stockings up left Rhett’s eyes wandering up his long legs. He was tempted to use that harness Link wore to tug him close. He didn’t, though. He stayed still, hoping Link would initiate somehow.

“You requested me,” Link said. It wasn’t a question. It was a note, a punctuation mark on the situation at hand. He didn’t seem interested or amused.

“You knew when I asked for a lap dance that I wanted one from you.”

“Chase gives good lap dances. I’m sure he took care of you,” Link answered. He still hadn’t crossed to Rhett’s side of the room, instead staring him down.

“He was good, Link. But he wasn’t you. I came for time with you.” Rhett didn’t know how to explain to Link that he liked him, that he was here for him, that it was why he’d been coming from the beginning. Chase was great, but he was no Link. Never would be. “Am I going to get that time or are you going to stand on that side of the room all night?”

“You’ll get exactly what you paid for, Rhett. I’ll be sure of it.” He still wasn’t smiling, and when he did cross the room, everything he did was clinical. His touch on Rhett’s shoulder felt cold, and the way he straddled him felt like he may as well not have been touching him at all.

“Can I touch you?” Rhett asked, looking up at Link, who had one foot on the booth beside Rhett and one on the ground, his crotch damn near Rhett’s face.

“You paid to be able to,” Link said with a soft sigh. Rhett took that as yes enough and ran his hand up Link’s leg, up the length of his stocking, resting it on his thigh. Even if Link was mad at him, he couldn’t seem to keep himself from lolling his head back and letting off a soft groan at the touch. Rhett’s hands roamed up Link’s chest, and with the back of one hand, he grazed Link’s cheek.

“I want to see you after this. Please, Link. I need—”

“Three dollars per minute. Not including a tip, and I’m expecting you’ll tip well.”

“Done. Anything you want. I’ll do four if you need me to, I don’t care. I need time with you, Link. God, I do,” Rhett said, and Link sank onto his lap, grinding on him. He was barely looking at Rhett.

“Fine,” Link said.

“Fine,” Rhett repeated. “What changed, Link? I’ll pay what you’re asking. I’ll pay you anything you ask me to, as much as I have. But what changed?”

“You wanted this to be a transaction, Rhett. It’s a transaction. You pay me, and I give you the time you want. And when you stop paying me, you stop getting time. You’ve been very supportive of my  _ business,  _ and I am certain if you want time with me, you’ll continue that,” Link answered him, turning around and shielding his face from Rhett by getting his ass in his face.

“Strictly business,” Rhett said. “I understand.” He couldn’t help but feel the pang of disappointment there, the feeling of loss and rejection from Link. “Can I ask you something?”

“You paid enough for five more minutes with me, so I guess you’ve got the time,” Link said.

“Was it ever more than business for you? God, that’s … that’s so stupid. I don’t know what I’m asking. Just, God, just forget it,” Rhett said, embarrassed. He buried his face in his hands. Was he really asking if a stripper, a prostitute, had feelings for him? Was he that vain or that cocky? That stupid to think Link would have ever wanted more with him? He couldn’t be that dumb, he couldn’t.

“You really have to ask, Rhett? Damn it,” Link cursed, pulling Rhett’s hands from his face and leaning in, kissing him hard and fast, pulling Rhett’s hair to angle his head exactly how he needed it. “What about this didn’t tell you how I felt? It’s business because  _ you  _ made it business. I would’ve given you everything, and you kept making it about the money. And now it doesn’t even fucking matter because I have other clients. I— God, Rhett, you’re so fucking dumb sometimes.”

Rhett couldn’t help the fact that he was crying, not when Link told him that, not when he pulled Link in for another kiss, not when Link sat in his lap and kissed him until the bouncer was giving a warning that Rhett had to pay for more time or get out of the room, not when Link begged him to meet him outside after.

He sobbed in his car until Link’s shift was over, the weight of everything he’d done over the past month crashing down on him. All of his choices with Josh, everything he’d done with Link, every ounce of misery he’d put Jessie through. It was all weighing down on him in ways he couldn’t cope with and it was too much now.

Not once did it cross his mind that Link would even want him as more than business. Now, he mourned the fact that he hadn’t realized it sooner, and when Link opened the passenger door to his car, said “drive,” Rhett did, and as they pulled into the cheap motel they’d been to once, as Link slammed him against the door and kissed him hard, let Rhett lift him and turn him, press him to the door as he hooked his legs around his waist, Rhett whispered a million promises in his ear.

“I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry, Link, I had no idea, I didn’t think you’d ever, I’m, I—”

He left so many sentences unfinished, so many needs left on the table, and as Link bent him over the bed and whispered in his ear, Rhett knew he had to make choices. He knew he couldn’t keep playing his games or doing the things he wanted to do. He had to make more rules, had to decide, had to figure out what he was doing.

As Link asked, “what do you want?” Rhett considered his options.

As he told Link, “I want you to spank me. I want to be punished for how stupid I’ve been,” and Link pleaded with him to pick something else because tying that to this felt wrong, Rhett begged harder. “God, Link, don’t you get it? I need you to hurt me and break me. I need you to spank me until I can’t sit down at work tomorrow without feeling you. Please. I’ll do anything.”

Link did what he asked and with each stripe of the belt across his skin, Rhett’s resolve got firmer. He was going to man up. He was going to call a lawyer tomorrow and file for divorce. He had to. Regardless of what happened with Josh or Link or anyone else, he wasn’t doing right by her to stay married to her, not with the tastes he had, not with the needs he left unfulfilled for her. They were both seeing other people and it was time to own up to that, to part ways.

But as Link laid in his arms that night, cried over the fact that he had a client he couldn’t quit on, that he’d already booked him and he was sorry, he was so sorry, as Rhett soothed him and told him to go, that it was work and he wouldn’t interfere with that, Rhett realized how deep his jealousy went. He realized how much he didn’t want anyone else to see Link like that, to touch him the way Rhett touched him. As Link slept in his arms, neither of them mentioned Link’s ridiculous price that he’d quoted Rhett at the club. Rhett knew as well as Link did that he wasn’t paying a dime for tonight because what they had existed outside of that.

But Rhett also knew deep down that Link’s client was going to drive him mad, that the thought of Link in someone else’s arms was going to send him over the edge. He could practically see the green of the envy clouding his vision.

Link was his, and in that moment as he kissed Link’s forehead, he’d be damned if anyone else was allowed to touch him.


End file.
